


A Un Autre Comme Moi

by Catswithbenefits



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette Fauchelevent & Eponine Friendship, Drunk Enjolras, F/M, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Revolutionaries In Love, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catswithbenefits/pseuds/Catswithbenefits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes people don't know what they want until you show it to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drive there

The music scholarship she'd been awarded last year only paid for half the trip to the state capital. The other half she'd taken from her parents pitiful bank account in secret, intending to make enough while in the big city to pay them back. That meant skipping out on half of the scheduled activities and sneaking away from the choir, but Eponine would do anything for her Marius.

She was the first on the bus and sat alone, her clothes for the next week in a plastic bag on her lap. It was all she could smuggle away without her parents being any the wiser. They never would've let her leave if they had known it was for an entire week. They needed her for their scams! Who else could play the pathetic teen mother who needed money for her unborn child? Azelma was too coarse looking to be pitied and her mother was too old to be taken seriously. No, Eponine was the bread winner when it came to pity even when she wasn't trying.

Mr. Valjean boarded the bus, his pretty little daughter trailing behind him. As predicted, they sat in the front, which is why Eponine was in the far back. She wanted time with ALL of Marius. Whenever he was around that blonde thing he ended up ignoring Eponine. It wasn't fair. He'd been so involved with all of his friends up until this year. Now that they were off to college in the big city, she was all he had left. At least that was how it was supposed to be. Then their old director quit and Valjean moved into town during the second semester, bringing his gorgeous daughter with him. Marius was bound to love such a lithe little thing like Cosette. She was an angel in every sense of the word, and Eponine? She was just Eponine. There wasn't a snowflake's chance in hell that she would be able to capture Marius' attention now, but that didn't mean that she couldn't try.

He boarded late, and Eponine waved him down before he could glance Cosette's way. She saw him watch her as he passed by her seat. It was obvious that he was torn between being polite and doing what he wanted. The knowledge was like acid in Eponine's stomach. There was no winning this thing, was there?

"Hey, 'Ponine," Marius said sparing a glance at her grocery bag. "What'cha got there?"

"Nothing," she answered nonchalantly, storing it beneath her seat. He was prone to sympathizing over her home situation. He was always trying to give her advice, but he wasn't very good at it. Besides, being pitied wasn't being loved or even well-liked. In fact, it was practically being looked down upon. She wanted his adoration, not his sad little knee pats. At first it had been nice, being listened to and cared about, but of late she was realizing he cared about her life in the superficial way one might care about a vaugely amusing television show. It was maddening.

Marius nodded, accepting her suspicious behaviour without question as usual. He slouched in his seat, taking out his ipod and A Tale of Two Cities. Eponine groaned inwardly. The bus ride was practically the only time she was going to get to spend time with him throughout the entire trip, and he was going to ignore her for his homework and some showtunes. She would have taken a hundred sympathetic knee pats over him being worlds away right next to her. Hell, she would have even taken the glazed look he gave her when she knew he was thinking of Cosette instead of what she was saying. 

About a half hour into the ride, Eponine formulated a new plan to make him notice her, and feigned being asleep.  She tried to slowly let her head fall to his shoulder, and maybe have him fall asleep and lean against her as well. If they weren't going to talk, she at least wanted to touch. As soon has her head brushed his arm though, he moved away, letting her drop into empty space, jolting her from her reverie.

"Do you want my pillow?" he asked taking out his headphones. Eponine took it grudgingly, a hot blush rising in her cheeks. Sure, it smelled like him, but he smelled like him too. She felt stupid for even trying to get his attention. This time, she fell fitfully asleep against the window. When she awoke they were at the capital, and Marius was in the front with Cosette, sharing his music with her. Eponine punched his dumb pillow a few times. Why hadn't she thought of that? Further more, why hadn't he offered to share with her too? Her insides felt like they were covered in permafrost. How could she have ended up so friendless all the time? What was wrong with her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SInce this is my first ever fanfiction, please let me know what parts don't work so that I can edit them and make this better!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eponine is a faker and Enjolras is awkward when it comes to affection

They found the hotel late in the afternoon after several wrong turns. By then, Eponine was through fuming and had accepted that maybe she would have to be clearer in her advances towards Marius. She was the last off the bus since she'd been sitting in back alone so by the time she got out, all of the other girls had paired up for room assignments. 'Four to a room,' Mr. Valjean had said. There were 17 girls in the choir though, and Eponine was the odd one out. As usual.

She sat awkwardly on a bench in the lobby while everyone talked around her. After counting the groups, Valjean saw his mistake and separated a few friends to room with her. Cosette and Musichetta were the unlucky two, but they tried their best to hide it.

"They say three's a crowd," Cosette chirped after a long awkward silence, "but I'd much rather have three than four," she was trying her hardest to be cheerful.

"Who's sharing and who gets to spread out?" Musichetta asked, referring to the bedding situation. She was trying less hard.

Eponine raised her hand, "I'm impartial," she needed to be on her roommates good side for her escape plan to work. A clean bed to herself would have been nice, but making back the money she borrowed was priority number one.

Cosette handed her the room key. "Well, then I hope you don't kick," she smiled sweetly.

Eponine plucked it from her perfectly manicured hand warily. Self-sacrificing _whore_ , She thought. _How am I supposed to hate you if you're so good all the time?_

Around two AM, she kicked Cosette awake. To play hooky by faking sick, she needed an audience. That and kicking Cosette made her feel a little better. Stumbling out of bed like a drunk, she made her way to the bathroom. The toilet lid clanged loudly on the porcelain, hopefully waking Musichetta as well. Eponine took a deep breath, stuck her finger down her throat and gagged loudly to make herself sound incredibly ill. Not a minute passed before Cosette was kneeling behind her, holding back her hair. This was unexpected.  Eponine wasn't sure if she was going to be able to perform now without a stimulus. She cursed Cosette's kindness yet again.

There wasn't much to do but gag and try to swallow her tongue. Nothing was working. She focused on the taste in her mouth, and felt disgusting instead of nauseous. Cosette cooed and rubbed her back gently. _This is the kind of person Marius deserves_. The thought made her sick enough to have no problem producing more of the sandwich Jehan had shared with her. Cosette would never have to be in this sort of situation because she was smart and kind and people were more than happy to help her out when she needed it. She was a model citizen, something Eponine couldn't in her wildest dreams aspire to be like.

Musichetta leaned in the doorway, her hair mussed up, sleep still in her eyes. "Want me to get Valjean?"

"No!" Eponine rasped, she throat sore from the bile.

"Are you sure?"

"I think I'm done now."

"I'll let him know tomorrow morning that you can't come out. I'm sure he'll understand." The two girls helped her back to the bed.

"Is it okay if you share with me till morning?" Cosette asked Musichetta. She grunted in approval, flopping back into her pillow and pulling the duvet over her head. Cosette arranged the blankets over Eponine before retiring herself.

Feigning sick really took it out of Eponine. She tried to steady her breath and still her trembling limbs. She would've killed for a smoke right then, but that would mean breaking character and forfeiting all the work she'd done thus far. Instead, she smashed her face into her pillow and tried to think of happy thoughts so that she wouldn't cry. All of them included Marius, so she bit her cheeks and tried to focus on the physical pain instead.  _Cosette, Cosette, what have you done to me?_

Before Eponine even woke, the other girls were long gone. She'd only slept for a few hours and was starving, but she couldn't think about that; she had pockets to pick. Pulling on her ratty t-shirt and jeans, she tried to remember where the major metropolitan areas were. She slipped the room key into her back pocket and headed out. Asking for directions was a good ruse for stealing wallets anyway. When she opened the door though, there was a tearing sound. Eponine's stomach dropped. She stepped out into the hallway and inspected the frame. There, just below the handle was a ripped piece of tape. She should have _known_ they'd lock her in. It was against the rules to leave students unsupervised, but with only two chaperons, no one could be spared for her. They'd taped the door so that they'd know if she left.

Eponine tried to think of an excuse for the broken tape. _I was looking for Mr. Valjean? I suddenly recovered and wanted food? The smell in the bathroom was killing me?_  they all sounded pretty weak.  She resolved to think of it all day, maybe with more time she'd be able to come up with a plausible story.

* * *

 

She had spent an hour tricking tourists out of their money, but she still hadn't thought of a good alibi and barely had enough cash to cover an eighth of what she owed. She could feel herself wilting with hunger. Passing a bakery of fresh bread was almost too much to bear. _Screw it,_ she thought, turning herself into the next cafe she passed, surrendering a few of her dollars for a bagel. There was no way should could go the rest of the day without some sort of sustenence.

She sat in the darkest corner and watched everyone mingle about. Half were writing novels and the other half were taking pictures of their coffees for instagram. It was amusing for a while, knowing she could easily take anyone's purse as they were all so distracted, but then she saw a familiar face.  _Enjolras._  All time tenor soloist, Principal for every musical, leader of Marius' band of brothers, and the object of every high school girl's fantasy. Eponine had heard much about him, but she'd always flown under his radar just like every other student who wasn't a part of his dorky political club.

She pretended to be really interested in her bagel, lest he vaugely recognize her and say hello. If he wanted to talk to her, she'd have to think of an excuse for being there. Chances were, he'd been invited to watch his old high school preform and would email the school about her misconduct. That was how he was. Such a goody-two shoe law abider. There was also a pretty big chance he wouldn't recognize her, period. Eponine watched him order his caffeine in her peripheral and considered ducking out and hiding in the bathroom.  _Getting up might bring more attention that just sitting here though,_  she reasoned. Still trying stuck trying to make a decision, Enjolras' perpetually unshaven friend, Grantaire, caught sight of her. He sat down in the chair across from her, sloshing his drink.

"I know this is kind of a weird question, but I feel like we've met before! Have we?" He sounded like he'd been smoking something.

Enjolras came over to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let the girl be, we have things to attend to!"

Grantaire brushed him off. "No, I swear I've seen you before! Help me out. What college do you go to? Do you frequent any bars? Hospitals?"

"I used to go to high school with you," Eponine offered. She remembered Grantaire showing up late to every concert. It was no use trying to lie. Besides, if anyone could identify with her and quell Enjolras' sense of justice it would be him. The truth was rarely the best, but her hunger slowed her wits. "I'm a friend of Marius'."

Grantaire steepled his fingers and pressed them to his chapped lips. "I know your name. I know I know it, I know it, don't tell me!"

"She's Marius' shadow," Enjolras said, fed up with his friend's antics.

Eponine blushed hotly. She had overheard them calling her that behind her back, but no one ever had the gall or indecency to call her it to her face. "It's Eponine," she corrected, "my name is Eponine."

"Lovely," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes. "We've got to go, or we're going to be late," he tugged at Grantaire's arm, but his friend refused to budge.

"You're the girl who won the scholarship last year! And you got emancipated from your parents too, right?"

Eponine felt faint. "How do you know that?"

"Everyone knows it. Marius told us about how much trouble it was causing you! Enjolras, she should come to the protest with us! She's exactly the type of person you were looking for! Desperate and poor, she's the poster child of the oncoming revolution."

She couldn't even gather herself together enough to feel offended. "Marius did what?"

"Grantaire, if you don't leave right now, I'm going without you." he turned on his heel and started for the door.

Grantaire stood and motioned for Eponine to follow. "Please come, it'll be more fun with you there!"

"You didn't even know my name a second ago!" She didn't belong with these people. They might be Marius' friends, but they certainly weren't her's.

Enjolras was holding the door open, tapping his foot. Grantaire leaned in closer to Eponine conspiratorially. "I heard you like to drink though," he pulled a bottle out of seemingly nowhere. "I don't really want to go to this thing, but Enjy insists," he pulled a face and pretended to shoot himself with his free hand. "A friend of Marius' is a friend of mine. Come ooooon, it'll be fun, I promise!"

Eponine licked her lips, considering the offer. A large gathering like protest would be the perfect place to pick a few pockets, and she could really use a drink.

Grantaire looked over his shoulder and held a finger up to Enjolras, telling him to wait just another minute. He turned back to Eponine, suddenly serious. "Some asshole suggested to Enjolras the other night that I like him, and he's been giving me weird looks all day as if he's waiting for me to make a move on him. I need a third wheel to make him forget about it. _I'll even pay you!_ Ten dollars, and a bottle of liquor. Please come with us!"

Eponine was sold. Not just for the free money and booze, but she could empathize with this man. That was how all of last year had gone. She could remember every second of every awkward silence she and Marius had shared. "So, do you actually like him then?"

"Are you in or no?" He demanded, ignoring her question.

Eponine held out her hand and Grantaire place a wrinkled ten in it and the bottle of cheap Boonesfield wine. She followed the two of them around back to the cafe parking lot. "Hey, whoa, wait! I thought we were walking to this shin dig. No offense, but you guys aren't kidnpping me or anything, right?" 

"You don't have to come," Enjolras said, disgruntled by her attendance.

Grantaire was already climbing into the driver's side, "When we're done, we can drive you back to wherever you're staying! You can even ride shotgun." Enjolras looked particularly upset about the last amendment.

"I thought you were high. Are you sure you're okay to drive?" Despite her doubts, Eponine was already opening the passenger door. It was a really stupid idea for a young woman to get into a random car with two virtual strangers, but her entire demeanor at the moment was 'what the hell.'

"Enjy here is on probation, so he can't, and you have no idea where we're going. If I'm not going to drive, who is?"

"Probation?" Eponine's worry-o-meter shot straight to the top. Half of the people who hung around her family were on probation or parole. She had thought that these two boys were good, clean company. If she pegged them wrong, if they weren't who she thought they were, what else didn't she know? Maybe they really were kidnapping her! Grantaire started the car and pulled out into traffic, barely sparing a glance for a stop light he sped through.

"I'm on probation wrongfully. Grantaire, could you  _please_  at least attempt not to get us pulled over?"

"You're on probation for assault, buddy, it doesn't get more black and white than that," Grantaire chuckled.

Eponine locked her seat belt into place so that she wouldn't be thrown through the windshield. "I thought you were more of a use-your-words-not-your-fists guy."

"It was self-defense. I had no choice."

Grantaire laughed again. "He was wearing a suit and holding a sign, hardly a threat! He didn't even see you!"

"That sounds like assault to me," Eponine turned around to look at the man. As a certified liar, she could tell who was being truthful and who wasn't.

"He was one of those Westboro Baptist pricks preaching about how God hates fags outside of a funeral home making kids cry."

"For the record, those kids  _were_ attending a funeral."

"I did what I had to do. People like that don't listen to words."

"How was that self-defense though?"

"I was defending the people's rights to not be verbally abused and discriminated against. I was protecting our God-given right of equality."

"Do you think that man is equal to you then?" Eponine grabbed onto her seat to avoid being tossed at an abrupt stop. Enjolras wasn't so lucky.

He pushed his hair back, "Didn't I just say he was?  _Our_  God-given rights refers to everyone. Everyone is equal."

"So Grantaire and I are equal to you then as well, yes?

"Yes!"

Eponine could tell he was getting frustrated at having to explain himself to her. A man like him, people never questioned. He was the sort you would follow blindly to the ends of the earth.

"And my father, when he chokes me or tries to drown me in the bathtub, and my mother, when she refuses to let me eat or puts out her cigarettes on me, they're equal as well?"

Enjolras' face soften. "I'm sorry. People like that are sick, Eponine. They need help from professionals."

"They know what they do," she had heard his speeches before. His ideas blanketed every problem. There weren't enough exceptions or details. If it were up to him, he would give away freedoms the way Oprah gave away cars. It angered her to no end that he would argue for something he couldn't possibly understand.

Grantaire pulled into a parking ramp. "I say we're all equal only when we're dead." Eponine and Enjolras both turned to look at him. "It's nice to try and idealize things, but nothing's going to change no matter how much anyone tries."

Enjolras was angry with him all over again, "Do you come to these protests and sit in on our meetings just to mock us then? Is my plight a joke to you?"

"No! I'd love to be proven wrong! According to you, everything I do is wrong, so why shouldn't my ideas be wrong as well?" Grantaire got out and slammed his door. Eponine slowly unbuckled herself. This friendship, she was beginning to understand, was not something she wanted to get in the middle of. The ten dollars Grantaire had given her felt heavy in her pocket. She shouldn't be here.

###### 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine starts something she doesn't want to

As it turned out, Eponine wasn't needed. After Grantaire's outburst, he left Enjolras' side, presumably in search of better company. It was all fine for Eponine, she wasn't about to complain. Now she could pick pockets without worrying the two boys might see her or trying to make awkward conversation to mend their curious friendship. She learned quickly though, that everyone at the noisy gathering had a serious lack of hard cash. She looked about her and felt she must have robbed every schmuck in the direct vicinity but still, she'd only made half of what was needed. It wasn't bad for a day's work, in fact, if she hadn't had a set amount that she needed to pay back, what she'd collected would be noteworthy. But there  _was_  a debt owed, and before spring break was over she was going to have to make it up.

Eponine stood on her tiptoes, looking for Grantaire or Enjolras. She spotted Enjolras easily in his bright red sweater, but couldn't find the former at all. Sighing, she made her way through the crowd towards him. He was an intimidating person to say the least. Eponine hated the way she felt around him. He was like her father or Montparnasse. There was a dangerous air about him and he used it to his advantage.

"Hey," she said, a little breathless from forcing her way through the protesters. He didn't look up to acknowledge her presence. Now that she was near him, she could see that he was surrounded by the members of the political club he'd started back at the high school. It was incredible how they all followed their dear leader to college. Eponine vaguely wondered if Enjolras appreciated their loyalty.

"Courfeyrac?" He held out his hand absently while scanning a packet of papers. Courfeyrac, who Eponine recognized as both Marius' and Enjolras' best friend, produced a megaphone. "Thank you."

"What's that for?" Eponine asked nervously. Every student protest she'd ever known where a megaphone was involved ended in a thorough gassing.

"We're rallying the people," Enjolras gave his papers to Joly and took a deep breath, preparing himself.

"The people are already rallied."

Enjolra pursed his lips, "Just cheer when everyone else does."

Eponine took the papers from Joly and flipped through them quickly. It was a long and angry rant with bullet points. "You're going to lecture them? They're angry Enjolras, they don't need a lecture."

"It's not a lecture, it's a speech," he turned the megaphone on. Eponine pulled away from his lips so that he wasn't able to speak.

"They already know what they want, you don't need to tell them!" she hissed "You're putting everyone here at risk! The police will use force if they think there's a central leader."

"They need to be brought to action! These protests do nothing, we have to take more drastic measures."

"Fine," Eponine tore the megaphone from Enjolras' hands and ran into the crowd. She could hear the Les Amis' feet pounding behind her and prayed they wouldn't catch up. When she got to a tree in the middle of the protest, she found Grantaire asleep at he base of it. She shook him awake, "Boost me up!"

He opened his eyes sleepily. "What?" Lucky for Eponine, a group of protesters had heard her order and were already helping her into the tree before Grantaire had even roused himself. They pushed her up to a low hanging branch, but it was enough for Eponine to be able to reach the next one which was perfect for standing upon. She looked down and saw Enjolras reaching for the branch she had just been on. It was now or never.

"LISTEN UP!" she screamed into the megaphone. The people quieted to a dull roar and turned to look at the girl in the tree. "THE OFFICIALS AREN'T _LISTENING_   TO US, THEY'RE _HIDING_  FROM US IN THE CAPITAL!" there was a dull 'yeah!' in response. "THEY'RE TERRIFIED OF US!" the next cheer was a little louder. "WE ARE THE MAJORITY, HOW DARE THEY ORDER US AROUND! WHO GAVE THEM THAT POWER?" There was silence.

Enjolras pulled himself up next to Eponine. "WE DID!" He screamed. The crowd slowly started to chant his response, finally understanding where Eponine was going with her message.

"AND WE CAN TAKE IT AWAY!" Eponine added before they got too loud. The protesters cheered and pumped their fists. "WE ARE DONE WITH PEACE. THEY WON'T LISTEN TO OUR WORDS! IT'S TIME WE USED FORCE! THE REVOLUTION IS UPON US!" Eponine forgot herself and let go of the tree trunk she'd been leaning against to punch the air. She stumbled and would have fallen had Enjolras not grabbed the back of her shirt. He steadied her and climbed down first. When Eponine tried to jump from the last branch she fell to her knees, marking her pants with grass stains.

Enjolras helped her up. "That was good."

Eponine gave Courfeyrac back the megaphone. In the distance, police sirens were already sounding. The crowd was swarming on the steps of the capital building, screaming, 'KILL THE KING'.

"We should go," she looked around for Grantaire to take her back to the hotel, but he was nowhere to be found again. Enjolras was walking towards the capital in a huddle with the Les Amis. She ran after him and grabbed his sleeve. "We need to go,  _now_."

He slowed down a little, "Why?"

"We're going to be arrested or worse if we follow!" deftly, she reached into his coat pocket and stole his keys and wallet both. It didn't look like he was about to listen to logic, and she needed a way out. If he followed the crowd, she would sit and wait in the car for an hour. If he didn't come back after that, she would have to assume he'd been arrested and she would go off in search of Grantaire.

"This is a revolution, you should be willing to risk everything!" he told her sternly, still walking with his band of brothers.

"This is only the beginning! Let the people get this one, we can get the next fight, right now we need to go," she was gripping so tightly to his forearm that he stopped to look at her. "Please," she mouthed, the crowd growing too loud to be heard in. Enjolras looked to his friends who were waiting for his command. They weren't part of the senseless mob yet; they were Enjolras' soldiers, willing to follow his every command. He looked back to Eponine who was trying in vain to pull him towards the parking garage. She could see something in him break. He tore his arm from her grasp, and for a second she thought that it was all over. Instead of running off to join his friends though, he waved them on and pushed Eponine's shoulder to turn her around.

"Come on, then," he said roughly. Together, they ran full sprint to the car. Every time she stumbled, he'd haul her back up again. Without him pulling her forward, she probably would have been trampled a few times. When they got to the car, both were out of breath and holding the stitches in their sides. "You. Owe. Me," he gasped.

Eponine slid down the side of the car and tried to laugh. "I started. A revolution. What more. Do you want?"

Enjolras shook his head and felt about in his pockets for the car keys. "Shit."

"What?"

"I must have dropped the keys back there somewhere. Shitshitshitshit."

"These?" Eponine held out the keys and his wallet in separate hands. He grabbed the wallet first and shoved it deep into his back pocket. "You dropped them back when those people hit us." She could tell Enjolras was suspicious, but since he didn't press the issue, she didn't care. His wallet was thicker than the ones she had been handling all day. It could have been pictures of his family or math notes that made it so, but Eponine had a hunch that it was something else. He reached for the keys and she pulled them back into her fist. "I thought you were on probation."

"Who else can take you back home? Your buddy Grantaire ran off without so much as a word as to where he was going." Eponine gave him a look. His harshness most definitely exceeded the greatness of his popularity. Enjolras took her hand in his and pried her fingers open easily, making her drop the keys when she refused to give them up. She sighed and made her way to the passenger door. When she and her driver were all settled in, they became aware of gurgling noises coming from the back. Enjolras and she looked to the backseat simultaneously to find a drunken, snoring Grantaire passed out and missing his shirt. Enjolras put his head on the steering wheel while Eponine stifled a giggle. "This isn't how I thought today would go."

"You don't say," She picked up the now empty bottle of wine that Grantaire had promised her. "What's his problem?"  _Maybe,_  she thought,  _Enjolras has every right to be fed up with someone like this. If Marius were constantly drunk and pessimistic, I wouldn't want anything to do with him either._

"He hates himself, I think," Enjolras said plainly, starting up the car. "It's not hard to see why."

"I'm staying at the Holiday Inn on American Avenue," Eponine didn't feel like discussing dysfunctional people and friendships. She had always idolized the Les Amis and it was hard for her to empathize with her gods.

"I know where that is; it's where we used to stay for the spring break concerts." Eponine's silence filled the car. She watched Enjolras' face shift while he realized what he had just said. "Why are you here? Where's the choir?"

Eponine sucked on her cheeks, debating whether she should reply or not. A man like Enjolras certainly wouldn't condone stealing. She decided to play on how pathetic he thought she was back when they went to school together. "Marius told me not to talk to him anymore. He's in love with the new choir director's daughter and doesn't want to be seen with me since I'll hurt his chances with her. I faked sick so that I wouldn't have to be around them."

Enjolras drummed his fingers on the steering console. "You should forget him," he said at last. "Bit of a pansy that one, anyway. You, you have spirit."

"Spirit?" Eponine was taken aback. She had expected him to yell or threaten to tell on her, but instead he was offering  _compliments_?

"In the tree back there, you had... passion? I don't know."

"I had to say  _something. Y_ ou were all trying to pile-drive me into the ground!"

"Yes, but what you said sparked the revolution! They're probably stabbing the senator who banned abortion right now!"

Eponine looked at her hands. Things were bad. The country was in a worse depression than the one back in the 1930's. Unemployment was over 20%, unions were being disbanded, and to top it all off the lower class made up almost half the population. Poverty and sickness and war were everywhere. In order to try and fix everything, the government had gone into lock down. Whoever was in charge at the time of the lock down was in charge indefinitely. The only way to get someone out of office was to wait for them to die, or to kill them. Eponine hadn't intended to murder someone, but she ended up doing so anyway. "You were going to make that dumb speech and people were to stone you guys." she said, trying to justify her first murder.

"You're right. The way they responded to you was incredible, though. You understand the way people think, you know what they need," Enjolras glanced back at Grantaire. "I never thought I'd say this, but I want you to join us."

"Me? I don't really think I'm Les Amis material."

"No, but you are! What Grantaire said before was right. You're the poster child of the oncoming storm. Marius used to talk about your problems all the time; you're perfect!"

"I'm still in high school, how am I supposed to join your political club from that far away?"

"Next year. I can talk to the college board, get you a scholarship. Of course, you'll have to keep your grades up when you're here, but we can help with that!"

"I pulled you away from the stabbing though-"

"Joining the Les Amis can count as what you owe me for that. If it ever happens again though..." he trailed off, scowling. Eponine knew it must have taken a lot for him to leave his friends and hold back his anger with her. He must have wanted her to join his club pretty bad.

"And the boys will be fine with it?"

"Come to the meeting tonight, then you can be introduced!"

"I'm here for choir, remember? It's not like I can just leave."

"It starts at midnight, when you sneak out, meet me in the parking lot."

Eponine sighed and pressed her head against the window. That jerk had an answer for everything. Not that free college would be a bad thing, but she hadn't planned on going to college at all. If she was lucky, she might have gotten a job back home and helped to put Gavroche and Azelma through high school. A college degree could mean the difference between making it or not in the long run, and Eponine found the offer hard to refuse. Revolution wasn't really her thing, despite what Enjolras thought. Marius was her thing. If joining Enjolras meant risking life and limb, she wasn't so sure she wanted to agree.  _Lie,_ her gut said.  _Take the scholarship and don't go to any rallies._

"Midnight?" she forced a smile.  _Let him trust me, let him trust me, lethimtrustme_.

"Midnight," he confirmed, turning into the Holiday Inn parking lot. It was only early afternoon, so the school bus with her choir hadn't returned yet.

"Come on in, I need a quick favor from you if you want me to be able to sneak out again tonight."

Enjolras glanced at his watch, probably eager to get back to the mob before everything was shut down by the police. "How long?"

"It won't take a second." He followed her up the stairs to her room where she showed him the tape on her door. "When I close the door, can you tape it shut again?" She handed him the longer piece that had been stuck to the wall and crumpled the other half in her hand.

He took the piece from her and shook her hand. "I wish we could have had you in high school. Marius was too cruel to keep you all to himself."

"I'm not all rainbows and revolution, you know," she said before saluting him and closing her door. She ran to the window and waited for him to drive off before throwing herself down onto her bed and screaming into the hotel pillow. Slowly, she sat up and counted her money. It was still all there. Every bill of dishonesty. Morality was never her strongest suit, but she always felt a little queasy when she came to terms with what she had done throughout a day like that. If she was supposed to be the face of truth and justice for the oncoming revolution, then what did the face of lies and treachery look like?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Barricade Boys have an unproductive meeting

It was almost ten-o-clock when Musichetta and Cosette returned. Eponine looked up from blow drying her pants to give them a little wave.

"What's that?" Cosette asked.

"I puked on them, so I tried to wash it out in the bathtub. They're my only pair." Eponine was actually trying to loosen the grass stains she'd gotten falling out of the tree. If anyone had been paying attention to her state of attire, they'd notice the new stains. The green had been a bitch to get out, and she'd have to wear her pants soaking wet to the midnight meeting.

Musichetta pulled a lacy dress from her suitcase. "I brought two because I wasn't sure what I wanted to wear tomorrow. You can borrow this one if you'd like. Didn't you pack any formal wear?"

Eponine accepted the dress gratefully. She didn't own anything half as nice. "I forgot we had the fancy gala thing--I don't think I've ever worn anything this pretty before, are you sure you don't want it?"

Musichetta waved her hand dismissively. "I think Joly is meeting us at there. My other dress is much more his style; if you know what I mean." She winked and pulled out a revealing little number that was all black and seduction. "I think I'll have to wear my hair down or else he'll mess it up."

Cosette clapped her hands, an idea sparked by Musichetta's saucy comment. She sat down next to Eponine. "We should braid your hair so it's all wavy for tomorrow! I'll help you put it up and everything!"

"I don't know," Eponine ran her hand through her mouse brown hair. It was still damp from the shower she'd taken with her pants.

Musichetta sat down behind Eponine and began brushing it immediately while Cosette went to her bag for hair ties. "I've never been to a sleepover before," they said at the exact same time. Then, they looked at each other and laughed. Musichetta took a tie from Cosette and started a complicated up-do.

"It'll lay nicer tomorrow if we braid it the way it's going to be put up. Is this what you were thinking of doing, Cos?" she turned Eponine's head so Cosette could see. The girl murmured approval before grabbing some of Eponine's locks as well.

"I've only ever done my own hair. Papa let me give him pigtails when I was younger, but I don't think he'd appreciate it so much anymore." Everyone laughed at the idea of Mr. Valjean with bows in his hair.

"He must really love you," Eponine said, envy creeping into her voice. Her parents used to love her too. She used to think that if they were rich, they would love her again, but she didn't think those silly thoughts anymore. Like Enjolras had said, some people were sick, but Eponine couldn't think of any cures.

"Sit still," Musichetta ordered, making Eponine face the wall.

"Oh, he does. It's really stifling sometimes, but I can't imagine life without him. I'm adopted, you know?"

Eponine turned to look at Cosette again, messing up the braid Musichetta was working on and earning herself a jab from Chetta's thumb to turn back around. "No, I never knew that."

"I was taken away from my family by social workers when I was seven. My parents were abusive drug-addicts, and my school teacher found out when she saw the cigarette burn marks on the back of my neck." Eponine suddenly felt very conscious of the marks on  _her_  neck and arms. She wished she weren't wearing a ratty t-shirt so she could hide them. The questions people asked her when they noticed were too hard to answer. "Papa came and got me a week later," Cosette continued. "Apparently those people who called themselves my parents weren't even my parents. My  _real_  mother was a hooker out in LA who died of AIDS a month before I was turned over to Social Services."

This time when Eponine looked at Cosette, Musichetta didn't mind. "I'm sorry."

"I hardly remember any of it, it's fine. Papa says it took me a long time to trust him or anyone else, but I think he likes to exaggerate."

"People are awful."

"The point is, everything gets better," she put her hand on Eponine's. "I know where you come from, you can always ask me for help, okay?" Eponine nodded. How did Cosette of all people know about her situation?  _Marius._  She wouldn't be going to Cosette for help. The girl couldn't possibley understand the circumstances she suffered. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay? Everyone else thinks I'm adopted from Russia or something."

"Of course."

Musichetta stuck one last bobby pin into Eponine's hair. "What do you think?"

The trio headed to the bathroom so Eponine could see too. "I'm going to feel bad taking it out tomorrow," Cosette said. Eponine was relieved when she saw herself. She looked like the girl she always imagined herself to be, instead of what she always saw in the mirror. Her long bangs had been pulled up into a plait, revealing her large, calf-brown eyes and high cheekbones. She was almost tempted to think herself pretty.

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed," Musichetta said, beaming with pride. "I hope it doesn't fall out."

"I'll be careful."

"Yes, Eponine. Sleep very carefully."

* * *

12 pm

Eponine pulled her t-shirt off over her hair as slowly as possible and then slipped into Musichetta's slinky dress. It was midnight blue with a scooping back that made even Eponine blush. She hoped she wouldn't get made fun of for looking like a bimbo. When Eponine slid the chain lock off of the door, Cosette sat straight up.

"Where are you going? It's midnight!" the girl hissed.

"I've got a date with Enjolras," Eponine stuttered. Cosette had never met Enjolras, but she'd heard all about him from the students who had. His reputation exceeded him, and it was Eponine's hope that Cosette could find it in her heart to believe that going on a date with the most popular boy who had ever existed was even a remote possibility.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have done your make-up!"

Eponine let go of the breath she'd been holding in. "You're not going to tell your papa on me, then?"

"Are you kidding?" Cosette got out of bed, and Eponine saw that she was fully dressed as well. "Come here," Cosette smeared cherry red lipstick on Eponine's face.

"I need to go, but thank you!" Eponine extracted herself from Cosette's grip and ran out of the room. The elevator wasn't going down fast enough, so she stabbed the ground floor button a couple of times to make herself feel better. She had a lot of questions about the specifics of the scholarship Enjolras had promised, and she wanted to make sure she had time to ask them all before he was drunk with the spirit of revolution. When she got to the parking lot however, it wasn't Enjolras who waited for her, but Courfeyrac.

"Wow, you clean up nice." he whistled, getting up from the hood of a car.

"Where's Enjolras?"

"Did you get all dressed up for him? You know we're only going to a bar. It's not a date or anything."

Eponine tried to wipe the lipstick off with the back of her hand. "I'm not dressed up for anybody. This just happens to be what I'm wearing."

Courfeyrac took her arm, ever the gentleman, and lead her from the parking lot, "Enjolras is at the newspaper office trying to figure out what story they're going to send off tomorrow morning," he led her to a bus stop. "Here," he said, shrugging off his coat for her.

"I'm not cold."

"It's not for the weather. It's to cover yourself in."

Eponine didn't want to be rude, he was only trying to help, but if she was going to be a part of the Les Amis she didn't want them thinking of her as weak. "I'll be fine. I grew up in a big city like this."

"You were little then."

"So?"

"You're not exactly little now, if you catch my drift."

Eponine sighed in exasperation and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you maintain your modesty here, no need to get upset. It's easier to hear coming from me than some creep."

"How do you know I don't think you're creepy? You barely know me. Half of me thinks you're kidnapping me and I should go back to find Enjolras."

Courfeyrac shrugged. "Do what you want, I was given the order to lead you to Musain. You don't have to follow me if you don't want to."

When the bus pulled up, Courfeyrac dropped his coat on the ground and ran onto the bus so that she'd have to pick it up for him. He smiled down at her like a goon, dropping in a few extra coins for her toll. Eponine mumbled some colorful words and sat eight seats away from him with his coat on the floor. Two stops later, an old man and and some swagged out chav were sitting on either side of her, leering. The old man had his arm around her seat, a sweaty palm brushing against her bare shoulder while practically inhaling her hair. The chav wasn't even trying to pretend he wasn't staring at her chest with his hand thrust deep into his pocket. Eponine threw the coat over her shoulders and went to sit next to Courfeyrac, who chuckled.

"Sexism and sexual harassment aren't jokes." Courfeyrac sobered up at her comment. Womens' rights were one of the many fights the Les Amis were spearheading.

"You sure are stubborn though. You let that guy jerk-off to you for a solid five minutes. I timed it."

They talked for a bit, mostly it was Courfeyrac who carried the conversation, which was fine by Eponine because it showed those two creeps she had a friend and couldn't be harmed. She scooted closer to him when each man got off, lest they try and touch her. "Is this how the meeting's going to be too?"

"You sitting this close to me? I hope so. The last good gossip we had we when Joly got a bug bite and was convinced he had small pox."

She poked him in the ribs, "No, I mean people being perverts."

He looked genuinely offended by this. "The Les Amis are not  _perverts_."

"You've been flirting with me since I sat next to you!"

"Nothing raunchy though! I'm a good boy! See?" He held up his hands, which had been resting on his knees. "I'm not even looking at you, I'm just making jokes! Marius must be a kitten if  _I'm_  making you worried."

Eponine shook her head. "It's those two guys that were sitting next to me that freaked me out. Not that it's never happened to me before, but we're in a public place for god's sake!"

"You're a brother now. We promise to treat you like one," he crossed his heart. "Most of the guys there are nerds anyway. Bossuet is still in love with Musichetta who is in love with Joly, so that's two down. Grantaire isn't to be taken seriously, Feuilly is respectable, Combeferre is a bookworm and super moral, Jehan is innocent, Bahorel is too busy being annoying to care, and I'm positively charming."

"What about Enjolras?"

Courfeyrac laughed, "Enjolras? You don't need to worry about Enjolras hitting on you. He's got one thing on his mind, and it isn't women. I wouldn't be surprised if he forgot your name with all he's got going on."

"He said he'd help me get into your guys' college."

"If I were you, I'd write him a note so he remembers."

The bus slow down and Courfeyrac nudged her shoulder. "This is it," he went down the stairs first and led her to a a nondescript building with a worn wooden sign outside of it, declaring it to be Cafe Musain. He held the door for her and tipped an invisible hat, "Milady."

Inside, any semblance of the meeting Eponine had been expecting was lost. Bahorel was arm wrestling with Feuilly, Grantaire was forcing Joly to take shots while Bossuet cheered them on, and Combeferre and Jehan were playing cards on the ground.

Courfeyrac went over to Combeferre and kicked his foot to get his attention. "I thought you were supposed to be heading the meeting!"

"Meeting's over. We talked about how today could have gone better and what our next move was. Enjolras is still at the newspaper, so it's not like we have that much new information to go over."

Courfeyrac waved Eponine over. "This is 'Ponine. She's the one from the tree today."

He shook her hand. "I'm Combeferre. You wanna play cheat with us? I'm getting tired of spit." Both Eponine and Courfeyrac sat down to form a circle. When the other boys saw what was going on, they all stopped what they were doing so that they could join. Jehan sighed and collected all the cards again to re-deal for the growing number of players. Eponine won the first and second games, earning her very near the rest of the money she needed. Halfway through the third round though, Enjolras burst in, newpsaper in hand. He slammed the door shut.

"Combeferre! Honestly! I was gone for forty-five minutes." Combeferre's face turned bright red. Enjolras' bad side was not a place you wanted to be. Eponine was surprised he wasn't yelling. He looked tired, was all. There were deep purple sleep circles under his eyes she hadn't noticed earlier. His hair hung limp against his forehead, like he'd been caught in the rain for hours. Everyone got up and took a chair quietly.

"Eponine, come here." She got up nervously. What if he was planning to rescind all of his offers and send her back? He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and then removed it when he realised it was bare. "Eponine is going to be joining us in the fight next year. After today's events, I probably don't have to tell you why," he unfurled the newspaper. On the front cover was a picture of the protesters storming the capitol building and another grainy one of Eponine provoking the crowd with Enjolras by her side. The headline read, "SENATOR SLAUGHTERED".

"So, you guys killed him then?" Eponine felt like she was going to be sick. It was her fault. Enjolras sent her back to her seat next to Jehan.

" _We_ , as in the Les Amis de l'ABC, didn't kill him," Combeferre corrected. "By the time we go to the front door everyone had already barricaded it and we couldn't get through. The police started shooting into the crowd so we ran. We didn't bring any arms to the protest, it was all we could really do."

"They killed five people," Enjolras growled. He lit the paper on fire and let it burn in his hand. The acrid smell of burning paper filled everyone's noses. "The media doesn't even mention the citizen deaths. All they care about is that swine we cut free from power. The senator killed hundreds, by forcing them to self-administer abortions, throwing themselves down stairs or going into back alleys with coat hangers. No one ever mentions them. All we get is this," He thrusted the burning paper into the air, the flames licking his fingers now. Suddenly, he dropped the paper to the ground and crushed it underfoot before it could char the flooring. "I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm tired of it." All of the boys cheered.

Eponine leaned over to Grantaire, "Killing people doesn't solve our problems, it just makes people dead," she whispered.

Grantaire clapped her on the back and smiled. "Good philosophy."

"What was that?" the Les Amis quieted down to hear what Enjolras was saying. He repeated his question.

Eponine shook her head. "Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"She  _said_ , 'killing people doesn't solve our problems, it just makes people dead.'" Eponine kicked Grantaire from under the table. Enjolras was going to throw her out now for sure.

"This fascist pig isn't in power anymore, it's a victory. This is a revolution, people may die.  _We_  may die."

"I get that. That's not what I'm concerned about. I don't care that he's dead, I care that that's all _you_  care about. Now that he's dead, who's going to replace him? I'll tell you who,  Another fascist pig. This isn't going to be like  _The Newsies_. We can't just sing and dance our way through this reformation."

"Obviously. It's hard change to make. The people will decide who to put on the senator's throne. Someone with their interests in mind."

"And who's that? Everyone in politics is a rich elitist! Everyone with an education is a rich elitist. No one who's a candidate for the seat has our interests in mind."

"Then, how do you think we can change that?"

Eponine shook her head. She could see the problems, but she didn't have any solutions. That was supposed to be Enjolras' job. He pulled up a chair next to her and Combeferre. The gentle din of conversation flowed over her. She hadn't been kicked out of the group, against all odds. She was going to get a scholarship to go to college. She still had four days to make Marius love her. It was all going to be okay. She didn't care about the meeting anymore and just wanted to get back before Cosette got worried she was kidnapped or something.

Around 2am, Grantaire was shaking her awake. Only he and Enjolras remained. "Time to go home. The bus doesn't run this late, so I'm going to drive you."

"I saw you taking shots less than an hour ago, I'll walk."

"Enjolras is going to drive you," Grantaire amended.

"Ready, R?" he was holding the cafe door for them. Eponine noticed how this scene resembled that which had occurred earlier at the coffee shoppe.

"Do you guys live together?" It was weird that they would fight but still hang around and drive each other around.

"Neighbors," Enjolras said while Grantaire replied, "Sometimes," at the simountaneously.

"When he locks himself out or forgets which apartment is his, he breaks in and sleeps in my bathtub," Enjolras explained. Eponine followed them out to the hatchback. She was jealous of their friendship and wished she and Marius were that way. She doubted that if she were to fight with Marius he'd get over it as quickly as Enjolras did. At the hotel, Enjolras parked and followed Eponine into the lobby to replace the tape on her door. They took the stairs upon his request.

"Why do you still live with your parents if you're emancipated?" he asked suddenly on the second floor, breaking the awkward silence with an awkward question.

"What?"

"Today, you mentioned them hurting you, but Marius said you got emancipated, so why are you still hanging around?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," he put his hands in his pockets and his head down. Coufeyrac hadn't given him enough credit when he said Enjolras wouldn't even remember her name.

Eponine sighed, changing her mind. "Where am I supposed to go? I've got siblings. They need me."

"That's honorable, I guess."

"It sucks."

"Why don't you go to the police?"

She was surprised he would think formal authority could help her. Eponine didn't want to talk about all the reasons going to the police would be a bad idea, so she changed the subject, "Can I have your number?"

"Oh, uh. Eponine, I respect you, but I should have you know, I consider myself married to my work."

"I want it so that I can call you about the scholarship thing. No offense, but Marius..."

"Right, of course!" he was blushing furiously at his mistake. "It's 555-0704. Like July fourth."

Eponine smiled at the simile. When they got to her room though, her smile fell. The tape she'd broken was whole, as if she had never left. "Weird." Enjolras taped her back in all the same.

After putting her night clothes back, pulling a few of the bobby pins out in the process, she laid down next to Cosette, and smelled something familiar. Moving closer to Cosette and inhaling deeper, she remembered what it was.  _Marius._ The smell was him. She would have recognized it anywhere. That was why Cosette had been fully dressed, Eponine deduced. She had snuck out to visit someone as well.  _Eponine's someone._ Despite the kindness Cosette ha displayed over the past two days, Eponine was still able to hate her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More lies

Marius was a tenor and Eponine was an alto which meant that during the mixed madrigals, they had to stand next to one another. All during rehearsal Cosette was passing Eponine notes to give to Marius, of which she sometimes confiscated depending on their contents. Her left boob was bulging with the paper she'd kept from him. Marius never passed anything back, instead preferring to give infuriatingly adorable chuckles to the inside jokes his sweetheart had encoded in an otherwise dull message.

The only part of the day that she looked forward to was the end of the concert when everyone was supposed to hold hands and sing 'The Lord Bless you and Keep you'. When Mr. Valjean made the announcement that alumni were invited to sing along, Eponine was surprised to see half of the Amis stand and join her choir on stage. Before yesterday, they hadn't even been aware the choir was in town. Enjolras must have spilled the beans. She couldn't imagine why he'd want to see his old choir again, since it was only Marius and Jehan remained. Back in high school he never took either very seriously from what she'd gathered. The former didn't care enough about the causes and the latter wrote sappy poems in the margins of the pamphlets during meetings.

Enjolras was the last on stage, completing the circle. He was directly across Eponine and staring straight at her even though it was tradition to close ones eyes while singing the song. She looked to Marius to see if she could read his thoughts on the matter, but his head was already bowed. She slipped her sweaty hand in his, and he intertwined his fingers in hers, which was definitely not the way you'd hold the hand of a platonic friend. Her stomach jumped into her throat that the contact. If only she could figure out what it meant! She no longer cared that Enjolras and his pals were being total creeps by crashing the concert. She forgot her part and switched to soprano when Marius squeezed her hand, hitting notes in the stratosphere that she didn't know were within her range. Eventually song ended though, and he was the first to let go. Before she could even open her eyes, he was across the room giving Courfeyrac the secret Amis handshake.

"You really need to meet Cosette," he was saying, looking around for her, but she must have gone off to the bathroom or something. "She's just so cute and smart and pretty, and she passed me this note today," he turned to hand Enjolras a stack of torn notebook paper, "she was the one in the white sundress, she looks like-" he glanced at Eponine, just noticing that she was standing next to him. "How would you describe her, Pony?"

"She looks like you," Eponine said. Perfect. His face, his smell, his voice, everything about him, she loved in the same way he loved everything about Cosette. Her meaning wasn't lost on Enjolras who cocked an eyebrow at her. He probably couldn't imagine how someone might still be in love with someone who's snuffed them time and time again. But if that wasn't true devotion, what was?

Marius shook his head. "She looks nothing like me. She's got this long blonde rabbit-soft hair and she's positively gorgeous no matter what, even when she's sick. When she comes back-"

Enjolras put his hand on Marius' shoulder and shoved the notes back in his arms. "Pontemercy. I don't care."

Courfeyrac punched Enjolras in the arm playfully. "Come on, Enjy, it's not like he talks about girls that often. Be nice." Enjolras rolled his eyes and Courfeyrac lead Marius away so that they could go find the elusive Cosette together.

Eponine stood dumbly with Enjolras, unsure of what to say. After a moment he held out his hand. "You should give the rest of the notes to me. Lord knows that fire doesn't need anymore fuel."

She blushed, "You saw me stealing them?"

Enjolras stuffed them into his coat pocket. "Not at first. It wasn't until the last few that Courf pointed it out. You're good. Where'd you learn to do that? Marius was looking right at you and he didn't see."

She shook her head. He always asked the worst questions. What if he knew what she was and he just wanted her to say it? "You pick things up when you've got a family like mine."

"Oh," he didn't seem prepared for the family comment. Marius didn't like to be reminded of where she came from either, but it was probably just because he didn't like to hear her complain. "I'm going to talk to the board tomorrow and see about that scholarship. If they won't give it to you, I can see if our resident nerd hacker can change a few numbers around for you."

"What are you going to say to them? My grades and attendance are pretty unimpressive."

"Combeferre can fix that. I came here to find Jehan. See if I can get him to write some flowery words about you. Catch more flies with honey than with vinegar and all that. I'll call you when we get it all sorted out."

Eponine wrapped her arms around herself. It was really uncomfortable how nice he was being. She wasn't used to kind words in general, but the entire time she'd known him, he'd been distant, his friendship exclusive. She wasn't sure if they were friends as Marius was the only friend she'd ever had, and he hadn't been much of an example lately. The day before Enjolras had flat out told her that she would help his plan. That had to be it. She was just part of his agenda. You don't bite the hand that feeds you, so he was being kind. The five-year-old in her wanted to ask if they could be friends, just so that she knew there was someone else to count on besides herself. She wouldn't though. That would come off as needy. Besides, the only person she could really trust was herself. And Marius. Sometimes.

"I haven't got a phone. I'll call you in a few days to check up, okay?"

Enjolras nodded and held out his hand for her to shake. She put her fist in it and he naturally did the secret Les Amis handshake he did with the rest of his friends. After the shoulder bump, he gave her a weird look. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Marius."

Enjolras rubbed his temples. "That boy. I need to have a serious talk with him. Did you see which way he and Courf went?"

Eponine nodded over to the bathroom where he was holding hands with Cosette the way he hand been with her during last song. She would bet her life savings though that Cosette's hand wasn't sweaty or trembling with nerves.

As soon as Enjolras left her, Musichetta was at Eponine's arm. "So. Chief Blondie, huh?"

"Did Cosette tell you?" Eponine faked a shy smile. Seeing Marius with that  _thing_  on his arm had been a punch to the stomach, but she couldn't allow Musichetta see how much she felt for him, or else she might rip right through Eponine's web of lies and ruin everything.

"I didn't know you guys were even friends! Joly never mentioned you. What do I know though? This morning when I saw all the missing bobby pins and the smeared lipstick, I had my suspicions about last night, but until Cosette told me the truth. I thought you had snuck out with Marius, but ENJOLRAS, of all people! Wow. You just took the cake 'Ponine. He's a catch. What'd you guys do last night?"

Eponine had been nodding along absently to all that Musichetta was saying and missed the question. "What?"

"I'm not one to kiss and tell," she patted her hair down. Obviously, she'd already had that meeting with Joly, "but, I mean, it's Enjolras. What's he like? How far did you guys go? You can't keep this to yourself! For the sake of girls everywhere, please at least tell me what he tastes like!"

"Oh, uh," Eponine looked over at Enjolras. He had his arms folded across his chest and looked ready to punch someone. Sure, he was handsome, but he was also intimidating, and definitely not Eponine's type. She'd spent all of two seconds convincing Cosette that he was her's and hadn't thought any deeper into the lie so as to convince Musichetta. "Don't tell anyone, but, uh,  _I've been walking funny all day, if you know what I mean,"_  she whispered.

Musichetta slapped Eponine's arm. "Shut. Up. You did not! Ohmygoodness! Wow. Wow. Wowowowow! I promise I will never tell anyone as long as I live."

"Not even Joly."

"Especially not Joly! Eponine, do you know how big this is? You slept with Enjol-freak-ras. Was he any good? Obviously he was. Oh geez. Do you love him?"

"No," Eponine didn't think she could pretend to love anyone other than Marius.

"That's fair. You like him though, right? He didn't take advantage of you or anything?"

"No, it was uh-really nice. He was a total gentleman. Dinner, candles, everything.

"Joly makes me dinner too, but mostly because he doesn't like other people preparing his food. So, that's it then? You and Marius don't have a thing? We've all just been imagining it?"

"Yeah. We're just friends," it hurt Eponine to say it when she knew it might be true.

"Good! I'll go let Cosette know. She's head over heels for him, but she didn't want to be a homewrecker or anything."

 _Of course she didn't,_  Eponine thought.  _Then why was she out with him last night?_

"I've gotta go say bye to Joly," Musichetta said, winking and practically skipping away.

Eponine sat alone in the audience and waited for Mr. Valjean to give the order to load back on the bus.  _Two more months, and then I'm out. I can leave all of this behind._ She was still apprehensive about leaving Gavroche and Azelma, but looking around the room, she wasn't sure if she would even be able to handle another two months with the way her life was, much less several years. No one besides herself knew who she really was and what she really thought. She was tired of lying to cover up her tracks. Leaving home didn't mean coming clean about her past, but if she could get out of her situation, maybe Marius would see some worth in her and she could make more friendships that weren't solely based on lies. For the next two months though, she was going to have to suffer alone. As usual.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble starts

**A/N: I'm separating the next 2-3 chapters into before and after. So the first part of each chapter is chronological and then the last half of each chapter matches up in the order they go in. I don't know if that makes sense, so I hope it makes sense when you read it. If you have any questions or you're confused about something, feel free to PM me or leave a comment, and I can try and help you out.**

_**1st Semester (9 months later)** _

Meetings were held sporadically, but often. In the beginning, Eponine hadn't minded going to them, but lately work was getting in the way. It took her forever to find a job anyways because of her criminal record, and now she was always getting the latest shifts at the Taco Bell across town. The other Amis worked in bookstores or as office aides; places that didn't stay open long enough to serve Fourth Meal, so they always scheduled their gatherings late in the evening when their work and studying was done. Sometimes they stopped by in and ordered burritos to catch her up on details of the meetings she missed, but she could tell Enjolras was getting tired of her poor attendance because he would sulk in the corner rather than stuff his face with grease and cheese.

Late one the evening when she ran into him in the courtyard after her final class. He glared at her before stalking away. Eponine caught his elbow, "Hey, wait," he faced her, even angrier than before. "What's going on?"

"I don't know why don't  _you_  tell _me_?"

"We haven't studied since I got here."

"You haven't helped with our plans since you got here."

"That's not my fault! I have to send money home!"

"Your parents can provide for your siblings."

"You know they can't," she crossed her arms. "Don't be so unreasonable."

"If we have the revolution  _you_  started, your parents would be able to provide for them."

"They wouldn't."

"But think of everyone else! Eponine, we worked hard to have you with us. You're not keeping your end of the bargain."

She was too tired to deal with his bullshit. "So, you're saying I should quit my job, let my siblings starve, forget about getting a an education, and spend my nights in some bar planning a revolution that will probably get me killed?"

"No! I mean, yes. You're being dramatic about it, but yes."

"How is that even remotely dramatic? That's what you're asking of me, isn't it?"

"I'm asking you to give what you can, and at the very least what you promised."

Eponine chewed her cheek. She needed his help, or else she would fail her classes and lose the scholarship. A compromise needed to be struck. "Then give me what you promised first. I'll call in sick tonight and come to the meeting if you help me with my final for American Language."

He shook his head. "I've got to get to class and then prepare for the meeting, can we do it later?"

"You know, I don't think I'm feeling that sick after all." She didn't trust him to study with her later. The few times he helped her in the start of the semester he did a shit job of spell checking because he was distracted by upcoming protest and then he left after only a half hour when Combeferre called.

"This isn't going to work on me every time, you know," he said dropping himself bitterly onto the grass. "You're not completely irreplaceable." Eponine was surprised he was okay with sitting outside at twilight with her. She took him as the sort who would want a hard wooden chair and a hundred watt bulb in a secluded area where no one would know he associated with people like her. "What do you need help with?"

She let her backpack fall from her arm. and sat next to him. "My final essay."

"I know. What part of it?"

"Oh," she flipped open her notebook. A good quarter of it was notes, but she only had a page and a half worth of essay. She tore it out. "This is what I have so far."

Enjolras scanned over it quickly with his highlighter. When he gave it back to her, most of it was yellow.

"What does the yellow mean?"

"It's what you need to fix."

Everything except for the conjunctions and linking verbs were highlighted. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"Do you remember the T.I.E.D. method from English class? You'd do well to apply it."

"Is that all?"

"Your introduction spelling, and punctuation could use some serious work, but I think we should focus on body and word choice right now."

"So you'll help me?"

"I'm sitting here, aren't I? Where are your notes?" She gave them to him and he whistled. "When's this due?"

"A week and a half."

"Shit," he layed on his stomach and started to highlight her notes as well. After each page he would tear it out of the notebook and explain why he'd selected the pieces that he had. "In this type of essay you're required to make, on average, two to three points. Whatever you write should be debatable but throughout its entirety you'll be explaining why your side is in the right. You've got a lot of information here, so we need to narrow it down to fit the three main arguing points."

"Do you do this a lot?"

"Most of the Amis don't ask for help with their homework, and if they do they don't come to me."

"No, I mean writing three point essays."

"Not anymore. After that day in the tree I stopped, except for writing petitions. Screaming memorable slogans at people seems to work better." Eponine smiled a little at that. "Of course, you'd know that, if you came to any meetings."

She poked him in the side with her thumb. "I'm coming tonight, jerk."

He waved her off. "Enough, you need to get this written. Look over what I marked and show me what you think should go in the first section." Eponine marked a few statistics and quotes while Enjolras nodded along, pointing out ones she missed and explaining why they ought to go along with the first part. "Alright, now imagine you've written an amazing introduction that introduces Topic One. We're going to skip the first sentence, since it'll be transitory and you don't know what you'll be transitioning from yet. Then you write a your topic sentence, introduce the fact, write the fact, explain the fact, and draw the fact back to the thesis statement you wrote in your introduction. You can introduce multiple related facts in the same paragraph to save time and space and to avoid becoming repetitive."

"When you talk to people in real life, you only tell them the facts. Why do I have to explain what the facts mean twice in my writing? The reader's going to lose interest."

"Not if you explain it well."

"I can barely write."

"I know," he ran a hand through his blonde curls. It was dark and they hadn't written anything yet. Eponine couldn't tell if he was frustrated because she was stupid or if it was because he missed his class and wasn't preparing for the meeting. "I don't want to tell you what to write, because that's cheating."

"I'm sorry I'm so dumb."

"It's not your fault," he said, not denying she was stupid. "I just wish we had more time. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I've got a ten hour shift starting at eight."

"Okay, and the rest of your week?"

"I'll email you when I get back to my dorm."

"Alright. I want to finish at least one paragraph tonight. We can finish the first and second topics later and then do the third along with the introduction and conclusion another time." It took them twenty minutes to write the first paragraph. Enjolras, despite not wanting to help her cheat, told her exactly what to write every other sentence. Eponine for her part tried to paraphrase what he said so that it sounded like her voice, but nothing came out quite right. It seemed like Enjolras' way was the only way. When they were done he helped her up before dusting himself off.

"We're meeting at Musain at eleven tonight. You've got about an hour."

"Thanks. See you then."

"Musichetta works there, you know."

Eponine went red, remembering the lie she told Musichetta about her and Enjolras. Knowing 'Chetta, she'd probably asked if they were still an item or mentioned it in some way. "I'm sorry for lying to her. I had to."

Enjolras gave her a weird look. "I was just going to say you should ask her for a job. Then you could attend meetings  _and_  work. Why? What'd you lie about?"

"Oh, nothing. It's not a big deal.

"Really? Because you looked kind of scared for a second there."

"It's nothing important, I just, um. I sort of told her you and I had a thing when she caught me sneaking out last spring," Eponine muttered quickly, hoping he wouldn't understand what she said.

Enjolras laughed, "And she believed you?"

"I know! Right?" she was relieved he wasn't angry.

"You should tell her the truth tonight though. That must be why she's always asking me how you are."

"Right, yeah. What do you tell her when she asks, since you haven't talked to me in weeks?"

"Just that you can take care of yourself."

"Too true."

* * *

_**2nd Semester** _

Montparnasse undid the chain lock when he saw who was knocking at his door.

"'Ponine. Babe. It's been too long. What can I do you for?"

Eponine smiled as seductively as she could. She was only going to get one chance, and she didn't want to blow it. If he decided he didn't like her, he would phone her parents or make an anonymous call to the police, and that would be it.

"I heard you lived in the area. Just wanted to say hey."

He blew cigarette smoke in her face. "I don't believe you. Come on in."

The place wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. The layout was the same as Enjolras' and Grantaire's since it was in the same building, so she knew it wasn't going as gross as the last apartment he rented.

"I'm surprised at you. Thernardiers don't ask for help. Isn't there a rule against this?"

"Who says I'm asking for help?"

He offered her a smoke, which she accepted gratefully "Don't lie to a liar, lair. I've known you were in this city and going to that university the entire time since you got here. I've been keeping an eye out for you, okay? And I know you've known of my presence since I got here as well. So why are you coming to me now? You miss me?" he circled her, hand on her waist.

"More than you can imagine," she put her hand over his so that he'd stand still. The pacing was making her nervous. It felt like he was eyeing her up the way a predator would.

Taking her touch as encouragement and plucking her cigarette from her mouth to kiss her. His fingers dug into her sides while he bit her lip. "So what'dya want from me?"

She slid her hand down his forearm to his fingers, taking her cigarette back. "I was wondering if you were in the market for a roommate," She inhaled deeply, letting the smoke sting her lungs for a while, if just to know she was still alive.

"I definitely think that could be arranged." he took a step closer to her, making her take one back. He pressed her against the wall. "I always knew we would end up together," he murmured, slipping a hand under her shirt. It was difficult to ascertain whether he was trying to arouse her or perform a breast exam. She kept squeezing her toes together and reminded herself to breathe. Focusing on anything except for how scared she was was hard, but she tried. Sleeping in a bed, eating food, taking showers, she would give  _anything_  to have it all back. Montparnasse was fucked up, but he could provide it for her. It would only cost her her dignity, something she'd lost long ago.

She took off her shirt for him since he seemed to be having trouble, and made her way to the couch. When he tried to undo her belt buckle, she swatted his hands away and undid his instead. She'd been with him before, and seen how he used his other playthings. If she wanted to live in his apartment for more than a month, she was going to have to pace him so that he wouldn't get bored.

He gave her hickeys all along her collarbone. It was his calling card, letting other men know she was claimed. She thought of Marius who had followed Cosette to university. The Amis figured it was because he wanted to be in their club, but she knew it was for that girl. If he saw the marks, he would either be horrified by her or pity her. Nothing helpful. Never helpful. Not since he met his 'soul mate'. Maybe he would tell Cosette and they would send her a fruit basket or something. Montparnasse moved her hands towards his crotch. Her muscles tensed before she remembered herself and did as he instructed. This was what she signed up for when she knocked on his door. Being a whore was better than being homeless.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vandalism and Brutality

**1st Semester**

After eight hours of wishing people to have saucsome and tacotastic day, Eponine spent her night in the library with Enjolras. She finished her English essay on her own two nights prior when she got back to her dorm. As usual, he was less than helpful with proofreading, but on this occasion it was because he was half asleep. Not that she could blame him. She suspected plotting to overthrow the American government was easier said than done.

"It's fine, you don't have to read it." If he was going to half-ass editing her paper, she rather he didn't try at all.

"Are you sure?" Enjolras touched his black eye for the hundredth time, as if making sure it still hurt.

"Yeah, we should probably start on my statistics anyway."

"Oh," clearly he'd been hoping to go home and sleep off the beating the police gave him for picketing the new anti-gun laws. "All of statistics or..."

"The confidence interval business. I don't understand how that all works."

"Okay," he rested his head in his arms, relieved he wouldn't be teaching an entire subject again. "Give me your book. I took this four years ago. I don't remember everything" He read through it slowly, sometimes blinking for so long Eponine thought he'd dozed off. Eventually, he closed the book quietly and tilted his head to the ceiling. "Give me a second so that I can think of how to explain this to you," absently, he rubbed his still bleeding palms together. He must have scraped them when they pushed him to the ground. Eponine wondered how he stopped himself from becoming violent. If he threw a punch, it would be considered assault on law enforcement, and he would be in jail without bail instead of sitting here with her.

"Alright, so, the probability of any event is between zero and one. However, nothing can be 100 percent certain, which is why confidence intervals were established. Confidence intervals generally give you two numbers where the average of data can lie. This confidence interval can never be at 100 percent, as it is impossible to give a number range that accounts for every probability besides negative infinity to infinity, which means nothing. If we were to have confidence intervals of 100 percent, the margin of error would be so wide that nothing would be accurate. We need this doubt to decrease error. Does that answer your question?"

"Woah, calm down there, Jehan!"

"What?"

"Who knew Enjol-freaking-ras was a poet?! That was a beautiful metaphor on how to live life."

"I just taught you what a metaphor was the other night."

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate one when I see it! I wish I could write down what you just said and publish it!"

He scowled, "Are you mocking me?"

"Sweetie, you'd know if I was mocking you."

"Okay, whatever. Let's do some problems so I can go to bed," he thought for a moment before writing in her notebook. "Solve this one first," Enjolras tapped a set of numbers.

"Is it going to turn out right? You didn't take it from the book."

"Yes. I did it in my head."

"In thirty seconds?"

"I know. I'm great. Poet, mathematical genius, and generous to boot. Do the problem." He put his head back down on the table and closed his eyes. Eponine chewed her eraser, and punch some numbers into a calculator she'd borrowed since she couldn't afford her own. Enjolras might have been able to do math in his head, but she didn't even know where to begin.

At the sound of the library doors closing, she looked up. Courfeyrac and Grantaire entered, giggling with one another. Eponine waved them over, maybe she could get them to lure Enjolras away before he found out exactly how stupid she was. Originally, she thought he would be a nice, quiet tutor who worked for free. Whenever she saw him now, all she could think of was how uneducated she must appear. Not that she cared what he thought of her, but she didn't want him talking about her behind her back like Marius did.

Courfeyrac leaned in closely to his friend's ear and blew hot breath on his cheek while Grantaire stroked Enjolras' spine.

"Hey, Enjy," they cooed in school-girl unison. Enjolras shot out of his chair, knocking Courfeyrac's jaw.

"The hell, you guys!?"

They both fell into a fit of laughter, Courfeyrac holding his chin, and Grantaire his belly like he was Saint Nick come early. "We got a bunch of chalk from the dollar store, want to write on things?" Courf asked when he finally calmed down.

Enjolras sat back down and reached for Eponine's notebook. "Did you finish the problem?"

She closed it before he could see. "Yup. It's really easy now, thanks."

"Enjolras is tutoring you?" Grantaire pulled up a chair and sat in in backwards. "You said it'd be cheating to help me with my homework! What? You see a pretty girl and suddenly you forget all your rules?"

Enjolras flipped his hood up and pouted. "I'm not doing this with you again. You're only picking this fight now because you want her to hear it."

Eponine chewed her cheek _, they'd fought about me?_

Grantaire patted her hand to get her attention. "He came home so late the other night, I thought maybe he found someone. When he told me he was studying with you, I couldn't help but wonder if it was a euphemism for something," he put his tongue in his cheek and flicked his eyes in Enjolras' direction.

"Yeah, it was a euphemism for Eponine is an idiot and he was helping her study"

"A euphamism is-" Eponine tossed her pencil at Enjolras so it hit him in the chest.

"I know what a goddamn euphemism is, jerk. I do have some grasp on the English language, you know."

Courfeyrac laughed and ruffled Enjolras' hair. "You're too hard on her. Eponine is great! She should help us write naughty words on things. What say you, Ep?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"How about, The Odds are Never in Your Favor," he ran his hand in and arc above his head, as if announcing something grand.

Enjolras pressed his lips together. "Isn't that a hunger games thing?"

"You're into pop culture?" Grantaire gasped.

"Absolutely not. I hear that stupid phrase everywhere. I don't have time to read silly girl books."

"It's not silly, it's about revolution."

"Either way, the phrase is no good. It's not inspiring, it's depressing. We want to get people mad and bring them to action."

"The cake is a lie," Grantaire suggested.

"No, I hate that video game.

"That's only because you always die. It's a great phrase, regardless. It references Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution, which is pretty similar to ours. Also, it reference how the government says things are getting better, but they aren't. It's deep."

Courfeyrac nodded his head while Enjolras shook his.

"How about Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort?" Everyone looked at Eponine.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"I took French with Marius for four years."

"It's perfect," Enjolras grabbed a couple sticks of chalk.

They headed out, Grantaire and Eponine taking North and South campus while Courfeyrac and Enjolras took East and West. Once the boys were out of earshot, Grantaire attacked Eponine with questions.

"What's going on between you two? Is he taking drugs? Will you elope?"

"What?"

Grantaire started writing on a building in big sloppy letters, 'STOP DOING THE THING :(' "The only girl he stays out past 8:30 for is Lady Liberty."

"I'm not just some girl though, remember? I'm on of the Amis."

"Right, but last week he liked he less than he likes Pontemercy, so what happened."

"Nothing, we just studied."

"No, you're emailing each other too!"

"You go through his emails?"

"Absolutely not, that'd be creepy. He left his computer open when he was taking a shower and I peeked."

"We were emailing about school. He wants me to get caught up so that I can go to more meetings."

"So there's nothing going on between you guys?"

"Only academics. Why do you care so much? Wouldn't it be good for him to have a girlfriend? He seems so tense." Grantaire drew a huge penis in front of the admissions building. "No, not political enough," Eponine fixed it by labeling it 'GOVERNMENT' and drawing a stick person preparing to suck it labeled 'YOU'.

Grantaire laughed, "You're good at this."

"We should really start to write that French shit, or else Enjolras will get pissy."

"He's such a nerd." There was a shout in the distance. "Speak of the devil. I bet he remembered he had homework to do or something." They both started running towards the noise, snickering at the thought. Eponine pulled Grantaire back into a doorway when she saw Enjolras. He was pressed face first against a wall by a very tall man.

"I think it's the police," she hissed.

"What! Why?"

"Vandalism, revolution, hello?"

"We've got to go help him!"

Eponine shook her head. "He'll take it as a threat and then we'll all be jailed."

"All for one and one for all," he turned to leave again.

"Wait!" she grabbed the back of his shirt. "Let me do it, you look too scary, with all your hair and muscles. If he tries to arrest me, or calls for back up then you come. Text Courf, see where he's at." before Grantaire could stop her, she was running across the green.

"Hey, baby, who's your friend?" she was out of breath and holding a stitch in her side.

The officer nodded at her. "I'm an officer ma'am. Do you know this hooligan?" he pressed Enjolras into the wall a little harder, knocking the air from his lungs. Eponine chewed her lip. If she screwed this up, he could end up seriously hurt. The law didn't care about justice like it used to. Now it was all about keeping people in line. Of course, the officer was a male, and men still worked the same way. She'd gotten herself out of enough speeding tickets to know that.

"'Course. I 'know'  _all_  about him," she said with a coy wink. "That's what college is all about, right? Getting to know people." Now, she glanced at the wall Enjolras had been vandalizing. She sighed theatrically, a plan forming. "Really babe? I spelled out what you were supposed to write so you wouldn't mess it up," Kneeling, she added the word 'petite' between la and mort. "If you don't add the petite, it's creepy, not funny. We're trying to make people laugh here, not start a mob. Orgamsims are funny. Death is not. See the difference?"

"Ma'am that's vandalism," the officer loosened up his grip on Enjolras, who's nose was bleeding and face badly scraped. He moved closer to Eponine.

"It's chalk," she twirled the stick between her fingers. "It comes right off with water. It's supposed to rain tomorrow afternoon anyway."

"It's inappropriate and offensive."

"C'est la vie, eh?" she took a chance and stepped closer to the officer, running her fingers lightly down the underside of his forearm. He dropped Enjolras and tipped his hat to her, visibly uncomfortable by her forwardness.

"I'm going to give you a warning tonight. Go home immediately, if I catch you defacing property again, I will personally make sure you and your friend get full fines and jail time."

Eponine waited until the officer was out of sight to look at Enjolras. "You okay, babe?"

He wiped his nose, "Don't ever call me that again."

"You're welcome on the ass-saving."

"I was fine, I was handling it."

"You were about to become someone's prison bitch."

Grantaire met them, out of breath "What the hell just happened?"

"I convinced the po-po to leave Enjolras alone."

"She seduced him like a fiendish vixen."

"I wish I were a girl so that I could do that," Grantaire sighed. "Courf's going to be here in a minute," he held up his cell phone. Eponine took it from him and shined it on Enjolras who was slouched against the wall, still trying to stop his nose bleed. She squatted next to him and tried to push his hair off of his forehead so she could see his scrapes.

He flinched away from her touch as if it burned. "What're you doing?"

" _Helping._ Jesus Christ, Enjolras. You've got a bunch of rocks and shit in your cuts, it's going to get infected."

"Leave me alone, you're only going to make it worse."

"I promise I'll only look, okay?" He didn't move, so she shined the light on him again. Carefully this time, she tilted his chin. There was a little pebble stuck on his temple, so she picked it out, making him hiss in pain.

"You said you were only going to look."

"Fiendish vixen, remember?"

Courfeyrac jogged up, "'Taire said you were in some sort of trouble?"

"I'm fine."

He whistled when he saw his friend's new injuries. "You don't look it. That's embarassing, man."

"Why is it embarrassing?" Eponine dropped Enjolras' chin and gave Grantiare his phone back.

"That's the second time he's been beaten up today. Makes him look weak. No offense, bro," he offered a hand to help Enjolras up. "I mean, we all know it's better to not fight back at this point, but it looks bad on the Amis. Especially when their leader gets jumped during a silly little prank. People will think we can't handle ourselves or something."

Enjolras nodded. "I'm not going to class tomorrow."

"What? You never skip class!" Courfeyrac exclaimed

"Well, not never," Grantaire winked at Eponine.

"You're right. It'll look bad on us if people see me like this. They'll lose faith in the cause. They won't trust us."

"Or," Eponine said, rolling her eyes at his dramatics, "They'll see how much you care about the cause and how terrible and corrupt the police are."

I grumbled something unintelligible. "I'll think about it. Grantaire, do you have your keys? I don't want you over tonight."

"Are we going to finish this, then?" Courfeyrac held up his box of chalk.

Eponine gave him the rest of her sticks. "I don't want to risk being arrested. That guy sounded pretty serious. My record is fucked up enough."

"I'm getting a migraine. If I stay out any longer I'm going to puke," Enjolras held a bloody hand to his head and started stumbling in the direction of his apartment.

"Grantaire?" Courfeyrac held the box out to his friend expectantly.

"Yeah, I'm still game," he looked to Eponine, his face unfathomable. "You take Enjolras home, okay? I don't want to find him dead in the stairwell when I get back."

She nodded, half wishing Marius were as caring as Grantaire and half wishing she could go to bed instead of walking Enjolras across campus. "Wait up blondie," she called out. "Your boyfriend wants me to walk you home." Enjolras turned to give her a baleful look, but stopped. She grabbed his coat sleeve to keep him from tipping over. "Do you have a concussion?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Eponine was quiet a moment. He seemed more angry at himself than at the guy who jumped him. She wondered how long he'd been fighting this battle he couldn't win. "Do you really think this is all worth it?"

Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply, trying to let a wave of pain pass. "It has to be," he said through gritted teeth.

"My dad gave me a concussion once when Gavroche ran away. I lied to give him more time, and got beat up for it. It wasn't worth it, because 'Roche is on his own now, hungry all the time with nowhere to sleep. I didn't really help him, his situation just changed. What if that's how your revolution turns out? Will you be okay with that?" she'd been thinking about their parallels for a while, but only now did she have a context to explain herself.

"I have to at least try. I'm sure your brother is happier wherever he is."

"Maybe. He's so brave. I don't think I could do it. I don't think I could do what you're doing either."

"Anyone can do what I'm doing. That's the point," he stumbled a little, but Eponine held him upright.

"Not if you're selfish like me."

"You just have to find something that makes you care."

"Caring hurts too much."

"You're telling me." he stumbled again.

"Okay, big boy. We gotta walk. It's just another half block." She moved so that he was closer to the buildings and could support himself with their walls.

"Everything's spinning."

"I know." She put an arm around his waist and helped him to walk the last few steps to his complex. When they got inside, he moved to take the stairs, but she stopped him. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's only one flight."

"The elevator stops on that floor too. I'm not carrying you up the stairs."

"You don't have to."

Eponine was glad for Grantaire's foresight. If it were up to Enjolras, he would definitely be dead at the bottom of the stairwell. "Come on," It didn't take much to pull him into the waiting elevator with how dizzy he was. Once in, he sank against the wall and rubbed his aching head, agitating it into bleeding again. "You're a mess."

"I know."

"When did you last sleep?"

He shrugged.

"Eat?"

He didn't respond. She made a note to tell Grantaire. When the elevator stopped, she pulled him back up.

"Do you have your key?"

He fumbled around in his dirty red sweatshirt before she stopped him and found it for him.

"Make sure you wash your face."

"Yes, mom," he mumbled, taking his key from her. He closed his door with a slight wave. If he weren't so pathetic and irrational she would have taken him for an ingrate.

* * *

**2nd Semester**

Living with Montparnasse was a little like being in a coma. Whenever he was around, Eponine went numb and left her body. He would take what he wanted from her, but she was never there when he did. Not really. It was easier to handle when she knew he was coming, but sometimes he would surprise her while she was taking a shower or half asleep. Then, it was all she could do to pretend it wasn't happening and she were somewhere else.

Originally, during these attacks, she would try to think of Marius. His laugh, the way his hair flopped in his eyes when it was windy, how he drummed his fingers when he was nervous. But Marius wasn't a shelter anymore. It was several weeks ago that he'd forsaken her.

Initially, he'd acted happy that she found a boyfriend. He wanted to go on double dates to the movies and Olive Garden. Eponine wasn't able to explain why she couldn't, so every time he asked, she said that they already had other plans.

Then, he saw the bruises. Montparnasse would get angry about work or get fed up with her and he responded the only way he knew how. Violence. Marius didn't question it at first, he was used to seeing her looking ragged because of her parents, but when the trend continued he grew leery and made Cosette ask her about it. Eponine told her in confidence of the friendship they had started in their last year of high school, but Cosette didn't know what she was hearing were secrets, so she blabbed to Marius. He freaked out and lectured her about being safe and courting only people she truly loved. Like the way he loved Cosette. When she continued to live with Montparnasse, he told her he was 'withholding his friendship until further notice'. Now when she saw him, he would ignore her or leave the room altogether.

On this particular morning, Montparnasse had her against the wall, begging her to say his name, but all Eponine could think of was going over to Enjolras' later to make protest signs. His nails dug into her back, bringing her to reality.

"Say it," he whispered hotly into her ear. She merely whimpered, but he seemed satisfied and let her alone to drift back into her head.

Suddenly, she felt his hand creep around her neck. "Are you bored?"

Her eyes bulged. He'd never gone so far as to choke her before. Usually he only yelled and used his fists. "I'm sorry!"

" _Are you bored?_ " Eponine shook her head and tried to shove him off. He let go of her neck and tapped her cheek. "I want eye contact next time, slut."

Eponine slumped to the ground, shaking with fear and anger. She spat the taste of him out on the carpet while he ran around the apartment gathering his work uniform.

"I don't know what time I'm going to be home tonight. Don't go anywhere." She nodded dumbly, picking herself up off the floor after he'd left.

Montparnasse had made her friendless and weak. She couldn't go to any of the Amis' meetings, she'd lost her job, and if he so much as sensed she were talking to another man she would feel it into the next week. Eponine wasn't sure she'd be able to leave him when the school year ended.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two bad nights in a row

**1st Semester**

Before tonight, she considered herself to be a pretty good at knowing how to move her body in a way that looked appealing. Sure, she never made any of the musicals during her year at the high school, but jazz squares were never really her thing. The Bend and Snap was more her style. Marius didn't seem to notice though. She tried to get him to dance with her. After all, Cosette wouldn't be caught dead in a nightclub and would never have to know. He insisted on having Joly and Bossuet join them whenever she got more than two feet away from him. After being elbowed by Joly twice and stepped on by Bossuet more times than she could count, she decided it was time for a drink; nothing stronger than moonshine would suffice.

She found Enjolras resting against the drinking wall with his ever-present scowl. To her surprise, he was even holding a drink. She took the empty spot next to him, vodka in hand.

"You find our guy yet?" The whole clubbing idea hadn't been Courfeyrac's--surprisingly enough, but Enjolras'. Apparently one of the main DJs was a rabid revolutionist with a lot of power. Convincing him to help the Amis would be the ultimate success.

"No. I think his shift must start at midnight." They were both screaming to be heard over the pounding music.

She tapped his glass. "What is this?"

"R gave it to me. He said it would make me look less conspicuous since I refuse to dance like an animal in heat." He took a big gulp from his glass.

"No, but is it alcoholic? I didn't think you drank."

"He said it shouldn't do anything to me. I weigh enough."

Eponine took it from him and dipped her finger in. "Ew. It tastes like rum." She looked a little closer at the glass. It was hard to tell in the club lighting, but it looked like there were little white specks along the sides and rim. "Did you leave this sit anywhere?" He shook his head. "Do you know if R did?"

"Why?"

"It looks like someone put some crap in here."

"Crap?"

"Drugs."

Enjolras shrugged. "I doubt it. It's probably just sugar."

"Okay." She gave him his drink back. They sat, quietly sipping. Sometimes she thought he might be looking at her, but he was only searching for a sign that the new DJ had arrived. "What do you think of Marius?" She asked after a while to break the silence. Not that she cared about his opinion, but an outsider's perspective would be nice. Before tonight, she really thought that she'd been getting somewhere with him. Now she wasn't so sure.

"Not much." It was what she expected. Marius had some fascist views that clashed with Enjolras' socialist ones. Leave it to a revolutionist to judge someone based on their political ideology.

"No, but I mean, do you think he... I don't know. Do you think he's in love with Cosette?"

"You should stop wasting your time on him. He'snotgoodcompany."

Eponine let her head rest on his shoulder. He smelled like cheap hotel soap and rum. "He'll see me eventually."

"Yuh were right on top of him not twenty minutes ago n he made Joly join in."

She blushed. "You saw that?"

"I kin see everythun. He's either stupid or not intresed. Probly a good mix uh both," he paused, "Can we talk bout sumffin else? I hate tha kid."

Eponine took her head off his shoulder and looked at his glass. It was empty. "Are you drunk already?!"

"Wha! No! I'm sober as rain." His slurred speech seemed out-of-place after only a single drink. Then again, he'd never drank before.

"Come on." She pulled him off the wall.

"No, the Deej! This is tha bes spot!"

"I think I saw the DJ go into the bathroom, come on." He trailed behind her like a lost puppy, a hand on her shoulder so that they wouldn't be separated. She lead him through the middle of the room, grabbing Combeferre from a breakdance circle where Grantaire was kicking major ass. "Can you get a bunch of water and meet us in the men's bathroom?" she screamed over the throbbing bass. 'Ferre nodded and left without question.

In the bathroom, she made Enjolras sit in the corner of the handicap stall. "Do you think you can puke?"

"No. Where's tha Deeguy? I thaugh you said he was in hur." Enjolras tried to stand, but his muscles were jelly. Combeferre came in with six glasses of water before Enjolras could enter a full blown panic attack about not being in control of himself. "Fairy, you gotta help me!"

Combeferre set the glasses down and tried to help Enjolras up, but he was dead weight. "What's wrong with him?"

Eponine shrugged. "I think someone spiked his drink."

"He drank?"

"I know. It surprised me too."

Enjolras ran his hand over his face and started to chant the word 'sober'.

Eponine put a glass under his lips. "Drink." He did.

"Do we need to get Joly?"

"If you want."

Enjolras downed another glass. "What's this for?"

"It'll dilute the drugs and rum. Hopefully you won't have too bad of a hangover tomorrow." Eponine knew from experience

"I'm not drunk."

Combeferre checked his watch. "If I'm not going to fetch Joly, I better go find the DJ. It's almost midnight."

Enjolras tried to stand again. "I'm comin! hangon!"

"Better not. He won't take us seriously if he sees our leader completely smashed."

"I'm sober!"

Eponine gently pushed him back to the floor. "Maybe in a bit."

"It was my idea," he mumbled. So that's what he was all about. Getting credit for his idea. Combeferre left, promising to come back after he found the DJ.

Eponine locked the stall door after him and made Enjolras drink another glass of water.

"Do I look butter yet?"

"You could try puking. I bet your body hasn't absorbed all the drugs yet. They've only been in you for a couple of minutes."

He crawled over to the toilet and took a couple of deep breaths. "Are yah shore?"

Eponine took a sip from one of his waters. "Not really."

"This is turrible. Peopul drink for fun?"

"Most people do it because they're sad. Some of them don't even know they're sad."

Enjolras tried sticking his finger down his throat, but he only gagged. "Em I doin it right?"

She shrugged. "Maybe you just have a really good gag reflex."

"I need to getout thare!" he groaned and laid his head on the toilet seat.

"I wish I had a phone so that I could record this."

"You're a meanie. A meanie panini."

"Hey, I tried to warn you."

"I thaugh yah jus wanted my drink." His blinked sleepily.

"Drink more water."

"R is dead meat."

"He didn't do it. It was probably some stranger who thought you were cute."

"Noooo. He knew what thismeant tah me. He's tha enemy."

Eponine squatted on the filthy bathroom floor and whistled a sailing tune her dad used to sing when he was black-out drunk. There wasn't a point in arguing with someone as out of it as Enjolras. She listened to the din of the other bathroom users, and wished she were back on the dance floor with Marius, rather than tending to a drugged Enjolras.

"Why do yah likethat bafoon?" he said, as if reading her mind.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about him anymore."

"I don't! If I can make yah not like em anymoare, yah won't bahther me abou em."

"I didn't realize I was being such a pest, your highness. If you'd be so kind as to never bother me about revolution, that'd be very welcome as well."

"Wha?"

"Nothing." She pulled her hair out of its bun; it was giving her a headache.

"Yah should court Uncle Sam instead. He's a catch." Eponine smiled a little. "Imma marry Lady Liburty. Then we kin be in-laws!" She dug around in her purse for a sharpie and rolled his sleeve up. "Wha yah doin?"

"I'm going to write what you just said down. Then when you wake up tomorrow and you ask me what happened, you can just read your arm." She wrote down the rude Marius comment and his patriotic joke. "When I tell you that you're an asshole and that you try to make jokes when you're drunk, sober-you isn't going to believe me."

"Ah  _am_  sober!"

"Sober people can control their mouths." Enjolras grunted and retreated to his corner with a glass of water. Eponine filled the empty ones up with water from the bathroom tap and placed them around him. "I'm going to write Combeferre's number on your arm. If you get lost, call it, or make someone else call it for you."

"Where yah goin, Pony?"

"I've got some business to attend to,"

"No, wait! Kin I jus," he motioned for her to come closer. "I wanna tell yah a secret," he motioned for her to come closer yet. She leaned into him so that he could talk in her ear. "I think we're losing," he whispered. She drew back and looked at him.

"It'll work out.", she couldn't help but feel bad for him. This revolution was his life.

"You're just sayin that cause you wanna talk to Mary."

"I'll keep your secret."

"Liar."

She hooked her pinky in his before ruffling his hair, much to his chagrin, and leaving to find Marius. She'd curled her eyelashes and shaved her legs for tonight. No matter how bad she felt for him, Enjolras wasn't about to ruin the her chance with him. To her delight, and then disappointment, Marius found her first, Combeferre in tow.

"The DJ isn't coming," he shouted. "He was arrested for treason last night."

Combeferre was seething. "It was a waste. We were almost arrested too." he looked around. "What happened to Enjolras?"

"Nothing. He's locked in the bathroom."

"Marius and I will get him. Can you bring the car around?" He handed her his keys.

"No, wait!" she stopped them, remember the things she had written on Enjolras' arm about Marius and her liking him. "Marius, you bring the car around, I've been drinking."

He took the keys from her. "You shouldn't do that. You're underage."

"I'll be okay." Marius patted her shoulder sadly and left. She never seemed to be able to do right by him.

* * *

Enjolras was quiet the entire way back to his apartment. He didn't even respond when Combeferre broke the news about the DJ to him. He probably thought that if he stayed silent, he could convince everyone that he was sober.

Eponine poked him in the side to get his attention. "I take care of you a lot. I think you'll owe me after this one." She tried to write IOU on him, but he kept his sleeves firmly pulled down.

"I'll pay yah back latur," he said in what he probably thought was a quiet voice. Grantaire was singing along badly to the radio in the front seat though, so in all probability Eponine _was_  the only one who heard.

"I don't want your money."

"I know. You'll need me soon enuf. I live in-" He took the sharpie from her and wrote his apartment number on her bicep.

"I was aware, but thanks. I guess."

"No problem. I'd say yah cud crash whenevar, but R took thah privilege already." Grantaire leaned his seat back so that he was practically laying in Enjolras' lap. "Geroff!"

"I love you."

"I know. I hate yah."

"I know."

"You ruined tonight."

"I'm sorry." The way Grantaire said it was so sincere, Eponine couldn't help but wonder if maybe R actually had had a hand in the events that had transpired. If so, she hated him too. He took her from Marius.

* * *

**2nd Semester**

"You're early," Enjolras opened his door wide so Eponine could walk past him.

"Am I?" she set her bag on the floor and plopped into a chair at his kitchen table. She knew well enough she was early. Two hours early. She didn't want to sit around Montparnasse's apartment a moment longer though, and could think of anywhere better to go

"You're never early."

"Would you rather I was late?"

Enjolras rubbed his neck, "No, it's fine, it's just- nothing," he sat at the table as well. "Soooo... you haven't come to any of the meetings for the last two months."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Are you behind in your school work again?"

"No, it's my boyfriend. He's pretty needy and doesn't like it when I go out. I'll see if I can make the next one."

"I thought Marius was still with that blonde girl."

"I'm not dating Marius."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I'll go get the paint."

"Right."

He came back a moment later with tackboard and black paint. "This shouldn't take too long. I wasn't sure what to write on them, if we should do several sayings or just one."

"Keep it simple. Then there's a mantra. Since it's so impromptu, people won't have their own signs or anything to shout."

"Yes, but will they know what we're protesting if we only have one phrase? What about the arguing points?"

Eponine opened a jar of paint. "They don't need to have arguing points, they need to get mad."

"But they won't be able to get angry if they don't have a reason to be."

"They've heard the arguments before on the t.v., they'll know what we're protesting about. Whether they join us or not is up to them."

"So what should we write then?"

Eponine dipped her brush and started painting. "Shame on you. It's easy to chant."

"You don't think that's a bit vague?"

"No. The flyers we hand out should explain enough," her sleeve started to slip off her shoulder, so she pulled it back up, flicking paint onto her blouse.

"You've got black-" Enjolras motioned to his sleeve, showing her where.

She cursed and dropped the brush in the middle of the tackboard. "He's going to kill me,"

Enjolras picked the the brush up with a sigh and tried to salvage her sign while she ran to the bathroom.

"Who's going to kill you?" he called out over the sound of the running tap. Eponine kept water on hard and cold as punishment for being so careless.

"My boyfriend. He bought me this shirt." It was a half-truth. Montparnasse really had given her money to replace the ratty clothes she used to own, but he would mostly kill her because now he would she had left the apartment.

"Just don't tell him then."

"It's not that simple," she growled in frustration.

He cracked open the door, "Do you want help? I've got laundry soap in the kitchen."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I need to get this out!" she was getting desperate now. The paint was now a large grey smudge, twice the size as it had originally been.

"Okay," he paused before turning. "What happened to your shoulder?"

Eponine covered it with her hand instinctively. "Nothing, I scraped it."

He left to get the soap without asking anymore questions. Like Marius, he was gullible, always fooled by her thin lies.

Eponine finished the signs while Enjolras bleached the stain out of her shirt. He loaned her an unfortunate furry sweater so that he could put her blouse in the dryer. She flipped the turtleneck scruff over her face so that only her forehead was visible and put her head on the table.

"This is comfy," she said, muffled by all the fabric. "You should wear it more often."

He chuckled, "You look like Fozzie Bear."

"Wocka wocka."

"My mother sent it to me as a Christmas present last year. I put it on when she visits."

Eponine pulled the neck back down and sat up straight, fighting a laugh. "You don't."

"I did. Only once though. She hasn't spoken to me in months. Says I'm headed down the wrong path and doesn't want to be a part of it." He sat down across from her again, and handed her a stack of cardstock. "I didn't want to waste money at the printers when you and Courf can just help me pen the pamphlets." Enjolras slid an example over to her. "Copy it letter for letter. We wouldn't want you to misspell anything or leave out a word, now would we, babe?"

Eponine smirked, she was surprised he remember the Night of Chalk and felt well enough about it to joke.

"You know, I never really thought about you having a family," she said, starting on the first pamphlet. "I can't imagine you being a baby."

"Well, I didn't burst from my father's head like Athena, clothed in red and full of morals."

"What was it like? Growing up as you, I mean."

Enjolras sighed. "I don't know? Probably the same as everyone else. I got my mouth washed out with soap a lot more though."

"Did you have siblings?"

"A sister. Julia. She's a nurse."

Eponine tried to imagine Enjolras playing games of make-believe and squabbling with a sister. All she could see was Azelma flipping her off. "And your parents?"

"They were just parents. I love them, we fought sometimes, mostly they tolerated my various phases and evolutions. What's with the twenty questions?"

She slid her first pamphlet over to him for quality control. "Just curious. It's weird how you can know someone, and then suddenly you find out that they had a succession of twelve cats growing up, all named Fluffy."

"I'm allergic to cats."

"See! That's what I'm talking about! Before, you were Enjolras, Revolutionist. Now you're Enjolras, Sneezes at Cats."

"I guess. What about you then?"

"You already know everything about me, Marius told you back in high school, remember?" she waved him off. Her personal life was just that. Personal. If she let him, he would be sure to ask more probing questions than she.

"Back then you were... sketchy. Marius didn't always shed such a nice light on you, you know. Now, you're nearly reliable. You're passably intelligent. The Amis are lucky to have you."

Eponine put her pen down. "Are you saying I'm cool?"

"Relatively so."

"No, I want a definite answer. None of this beating around the bush. I'm cool, or no?"

"You're cool."

She fistpumped. "Best compliment from a dork, ever!"

"I just said you were cool, now I'm a dork?" Enjolras pouted.

"I'm sorry, do you prefer the term 'nerd'?"

He was about to retaliate when there was a knock on the door. Eponine hid under the table when he left, lest it be Montparnasse looking for her. Enjolras came back with two other pairs of shoes. Tasselled penny-loafers and a worn set of Adidas. Combeferre and Courfeyrac respectively.

"What are you doing under there?"

"Dropped my pen," she hit her head coming back up and pretended to have a pen in her hand.

Courfeyrac started laughing. "Did you skin a teddy bear for that?"

"Naw, I shaved your dad's back and knitted it."

"Sick, man," he did the secret Amis handshake with her. "Haven't seen you in a while, what've you been up to?"

"This and that. You?"

"Staying out of trouble. Can't say the same for this lot though," he gestured to Enjolras and Combeferre. "Bunch of radicals! They wanna start a revolution! It's all I can do to rein them in!"

Eponine laughed and Combeferre rolled his eyes. "How far have you two gotten with the pamphlets?" Enjolras showed him the few they had done. "Right. We'll be lucky to be done by midnight. I told you we should have just gone to the printers, Enjolras."

"I know, I know. I just thought-"

"Sure. Next time though."

Enjolras nodded. Eponine was creeped out by how good of friends they were. Anyone else contradicting Enjolras would have been an instant argument. Combeferre was like his conjoined twin. A stockier, blinder duplicate. They all pulled up chairs and got to work, speaking only to ask questions about the protest.

Eponine checked the clock periodically. Montparnasse could be in the apartment now, or at four in the morning. She was counting on him to take another shift like he usually did. The boys noticed her paranoia.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" Combeferre asked gently.

"Not really." It was only late afternoon, she told herself. He wouldn't be home until much, much later.

Around ten pm, there was another knock on the door. Eponine didn't bother to hide this time. With three revolutionaries by her side, she felt she could take whoever was on the other side. Enjolras unlocked it after checking the peephole.

"I've got Batman: The Dark Knight, or Eagle Eye," Grantaire was leaning casually in the doorway with two movies. "Personally, I think we should watch-" he looked up. "Hey! You threw a party without me?"

Eponine could see a muscle in Enjolras' jaw twitch. "I asked you to help with the protest tomorrow. You said you had prior engagements."

Grantaire pushed passed him. "Plans changed. Turns out I'm free!" He went straight to the laptop connected to the television and started preparing it for a movie.

Enjolras looked at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching his fists, while Courfeyrac frantically scanned the room, searching for a way to diffuse the tension. He pulled Eponine with him to the couch.

"We can watch a movie, and finish the pamphlets while we do. There's only a couple left anyway, right?"

Combeferre saw what he was trying to do. "I can make us some pancakes; we haven't eaten yet. You hungry, R?" Grantaire shook his head, still trying to find the HDMI port.

Enjolras sat down tensely next to Eponine, his perfect posture out of place on the sagging couch. "Eagle eye." Everyone looked at him.

"What?" Grantaire had the laptop connected now.

"You made me watch batman last month. We should watch Eagle Eye."

Everyone seemed to exhale, except for Eponine, who knew Enjolras' limits in tolerating his drunken friend.

As soon as the movie started, Grantaire got up to turn off the lights. Courfeyrac stole his spot on the floor, which he seemed to expect, because he sat next to Eponine without a word of argument. Combeferre gave up on the pancake idea when he saw Enjolras was lacking in the butter and syrup. Apparently he liked his breakfasts dry and chewy.

Eponine was a little irritable from hunger, which made her hot and uncomfortable. She rolled up her sleeves and leaned into her couchmates. They seemed to be taking up more than their fair share of space. Grantaire got the memo and scooted over, but Enjolras was completely oblivious; sucked into the fast-paced movie. She huffed and pushed him a harder yet when her stomach grumbled. He didn't budge an inch. She was about to ask him how much room he really needed, when she saw what he was all about. Enjolras was staring intently at her arms and the crisscrossing cuts that meandered down her wrists like a game of tic-tac-toe gone wrong. She hurriedly pulled down her sleeves, but it was too late, the damage was done. He looked at her. All of Eponine's senses became acutely aware. The heat rolling off of his body, the grim slash of his mouth across his dimly lit face. She felt his warm fingers encircling her wrist, tugging at her to get off the couch and stand with him. She couldn't make her legs do it. Everyone was staring at Enjolras for the second time that night.

"What's going on?" Combeferre stood as well. Eponine could see where the situation was going. If she didn't give Enjolras what he wanted, there'd be a scene. She got up.

"This part is really important  you guys! You can't just leave!" Grantaire whined. He eyed Eponine's hand in Enjolras', but didn't comment on it.

"It'll just be a second." He lead her into the second bedroom which served as an office of sorts, and closed the door. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Eponine wished for room to pace and time to think, her heart high in her throat. "It's nothing. They're old."

Enjolras leaned against the door, blocking her only exit. "And you're shoulder? That didn't look too old."

"What's it to you!"

"Is it because of Marius?" He was patronizing her. She knew how he felt about Pontmercy.

Eponine pulled the sweater off and threw it to the ground. Maybe she could shock him into letting her alone. His brow merely furrowed She shivered in her camisole, gooseflesh appearing on her arms and back. "Marius? Really Enjolras? You think I'm that pathetic?"

"I don't know, are you?"

"God, you're such an ass sometimes!" she hissed. He reached out to touch the fresh cuts on her shoulder, but she drew back before he could. "I don't need this." She tried to push him out of the way so that she could open the door, but he wouldn't budge. "Why are you doing this?!" She slapped his arm. "In front of everyone too!" Maybe she could make him pity her enough to let her go. On top of not wanting his opinion on her 'problems', the night was growing old. She needed to get back, and soon.

"You're the one that made it into a scene."

"They're probably outside the door listening right now," she threw her weight into him. He pushed her back.

"You need to calm down."

"I  _am_  calm."

"You're on tilt."

"I am not."

"That's what someone on tilt would say. Just tell me why you do it and I'll let you be."

"I don't owe you anything." They were stage whispering now.

"No? What about college? And the Amis? You like them, don't you? Who do you think supplied you with those things?"

"None of that matters anymore."

He crossed his arms. "Just help me to understand."

"You can't."

"No, because I'm only a friend who cares."

"You're not my friend, and you don't care." she felt tears pricking her eyes, but blinked them away. She couldn't let him see her cry, not when he already thought her a depressed cutting freak. "You only call me when you need help with your revolution, you hate having conversations with me-"

"You know that's not true. I hate talking about Marius, there's a difference," he didn't deny only keeping her around just for protest chores.

"And then you go and pull shit like this!" She waved her arms, gesturing to the room he'd trapped her in.

He tried to grab her again. "You need to stop."

"What? Hurting myself?"

"I just wanted to talk, you're making this into an ordeal." She kicked off her shoes and started to pull at her pants. "What are you doing?!"

"You want to help me?" she slid them down her ankles and then kicked them off as well. The look of shock she had been hoping for earlier from him appeared. Her thighs were still puffy from before she came over to his apartment that morning. "You can't, okay? So just leave me alone. Don't bother calling me again either, and I'm not coming to your stupid protest tomorrow." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Obviously Eponine had reacted differently than he'd hoped. When he opened his eyes again, the look of shock had passed into something she couldn't place. "What. Are you angry I turned out to be Eponine: The Sketch after all? Sorry, pal. We're not all perfect like you."

He shook his head and moved from the door. "I'm just disappointed."

"That's me," she said collecting her shoes and trousers. "Just a big disappointment to everyone." She opened the door into Courfeyrac and Grantaire. "Move, bitches." They did. She dressed quickly in the kitchen, nearly forgetting the shirt Enjolras had put in the dryer for her.

Enjolras was standing in the hallway with Courf and R behind him when she returned. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," she flipped him off and let the door close loudly behind her. Twice on the way up the stairs back to her apartment, she found herself crumpled on the ground hyperventilating. Too much. It was too much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine plays a dangerous game

**Before: Beginning of 2nd Semester**

Montparnasse was losing his seventh round of poker in a row. Eponine stood behind him, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear so that when they went back home he wouldn't take out his anger on her. If she could just keep him calm enough, maybe he would only leave broke and disappointed rather than in debt and furious. She rubbed his shoulder while he laid the last of his money on the table. The rage coiling just under the surface of his calm exterior scared her. The other men chuckled. They knew he was going to lose this hand the same as he had lost all the others. A balding Rotarian lay down a full house causing everyone to groan. Montparnasse put his cigarette out angrily.

"Looks like it's time for you to go home, 'Parnasse," a fat drunk man barked.

"One more round."

"You're out of cash, big boy. We don't accept IOUs here."

Montparnasse spun around. "Baby, how much cash you got on you?"

Eponine was wearing a scant long sleeve cocktail dress without pockets. "None? Come on, it's fine. I'll make you forget all about this when we get home." She didn't mean it. It was very likely Montparnasse would pass out before he would ever be able to touch her.

He turned back to his friends. "I bet the girl."

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not; the other men didn't seem to think so. They all accepted his offer. The fat man dealt everyone their cards. For the eighth time, Montparnasse had an awful hand. She needed to get out before he lost again, but without him knowing the better. Without  _anyone_  knowing the better.

If they knew she'd left it would be a bloody mess for her.

If Montparnasse lost his bet it would be a bloody mess for her.

There was not a doubt in her mind that he had a gun on him. She wasn't sure if he would pull it if he lost so that he could get them both out or if he would look for her with it if she left. There were too many risks to account for, and time was running out.

"I have to pee," she whispered in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear so that he wouldn't be able to deny her. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving anyway.

The balding man saw it and huffed. "Dammit kid, let her go to the bathroom. We can pause the game until she comes back."

"She's going to run." Eponine's stomach dropped. She shouldn't have tried anything. "I'm going with her to make sure she doesn't."

The other men shouted in protest when he stood to leave. No one put it past Montparnasse to cheat. Eventually a consensus was met that Eponine could leave, but for only two minutes, as the men didn't trust one another to leave the room and not cheat either. She thanked them before bowing out the door. The timer was set. Two minutes.

She sprinted down the hall, sliding dangerously around the corners. Exit sign arrows were in no short supply, but it was anyone's guess what part of town she was in. There were a few times when she thought she heard footsteps behind her, but it was only the echo of her own feet. Left. Right. Left. Left. Right. There. She crashed through the doors of a rundown hotel lobby and spilled into the night.  _Now what?_  Her two minutes were definitely up. Up the street, down the corner, turn right, she passed a taco bell and then doubled back. The doors were locked, but some kid was mopping up inside. She pounded on the glass until he unlocked it for her.

"Can I use your phone?"

"We're closed ma'am." The kid let her push past and continued to mop, unbothered by a terrified woman running around in middle of the ghetto at midnight. Eponine knew she could count on her fellow employees to be apathetic about everything; when you worked ten hours a night at a place such as this you needed to leave your soul at home so that it wouldn't get covered in grease. The phone was in the same spot as it was in her restaurant. She tried Marius' number first.

"Hullo?" There was a lot of background noise.

"Hey! It's Eponine! I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now," Something crashed. "Woah! Hey! Yeah, Eponine, I'm going to have to call you back, okay?"

"Wait-" He hung up. She kick the counter and screamed. The boy mopping didn't spare her a even glance. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to think of someone else to call. Her two minutes were stretching into ten. _Enjolras._  555-0704, like the Fourth of July. She punched it in quickly and squatted on the ground, lest one of the poker players run past and see her. After six rings he answered.

"Who is this?" he sounded like he just woke up.

"Eponine. I need your help."

"Why? What happened? Where are you?" He was definitely awake now.

"Hey kid, what's this address?" The boy mopping shouted it out. "Did you get that? Can you pick me up?"

"Yeah," he was quiet a second while he put it into his phone. "It says you're twenty minutes away. Are you okay?"

"Not really. Do you have a gun?"

"What's going on?"

"I can explain later." She gripped the phone tightly to the side of her face as if she might disappear into it and be delivered to where he was.

"Stay where you are, okay?"

There was some shouting outside, but she couldn't tell if it was gang-related or poker-related. "Yeah, I'll try. Please hurry." He hung up, but she kept the phone clutched to her ear. The screaming ensued, one voice distinctly Montparnasse's. She held the phone to her chest and lay on the floor. The boy was still mopping, not even slightly concerned about the dangerous men just outside. Even as their voices faded away, she continued to lay on the ground quietly. They would surely come back this direction when they didn't find her on the other streets.

Only ten minutes had passed when a pair of headlights pulled up and around the drive through. The boy put his headset on and greeted the customer who asked if he'd seen a girl. The boy said he had and asked the costumer if he wanted any churros with that. Eponine jumped up from the floor and slammed the phone down on the receiver before running out to Enjolras' car. She got in the passenger's side and slouched so that she wouldn't be seen by any of the passerbys. He drove off without giving the boy answer.

"You said it would take twenty minutes."

"You asked me if I had a gun; I figured I should hurry if the situation called for people to get shot."

"Thank you."

"What were you doing hiding out in a taco bell?" He seemed a little upset at the fact the there was no apparent immediate danger.

"My friend got a little drunk," she struggled to find a way to explain her situation to him without explaining the entire situation. "He lost a bet, and his friends got mad."

"His friends with guns."

How could she make him understand? There was no way she could tell him she was living with Montparnasse. "He bet me." That was it. That was as much as she could tell without giving away the entire story. If she told him the whole story, he would have a lot of questions she didn't want to give answers to.

"And he lost you. To his friends with guns."

"I ran." Enjolras wouldn't look at her. He was driving at least ten over the speed limit and was only going faster. "I don't mean to drag you into this. I called Marius, but he hung up on me."

"I'm glad you called. You're supposed to call. It's just-- how do you find these fucking people!?"

"What?" She was surprised to hear him swear.

"Who would place and who would accept a bet where you were at stake? That's sick!" He slammed on the brakes to avoid running a red light. "People don't do that."

She tugged at her seatbelt, which was cutting into her shoulder. "Maybe not in the perfect world where you come from."

"No, I get that the world is awful. Have you been to any of our protests? I just don't understand why you choose to hang out with the people who instigate the awfulness."

"I don't really have a choice, do I? You're given your lot in life, and that's that. These are my people. Things just turned sour at the end."

"Your people?! You're joking, right? Eponine, you could be in your dorm right now, not trying to out run a bunch of rapists."

"Are you trying to tell me I did this to myself?"

He looked at her for the first time. "Yes. No. No. I don't know."

She grunted. She didn't need his sympathy or his understanding; she needed to get away from this part of the city. He was serving his purpose just fine.

"Eponine, I don't know, okay? Obviously I don't know the whole story. Your 'friend'," she could practically taste the air quotes around the word, "What's going to happen when you see him next?"

Another risk she hadn't thought about. Where was she going anyway? Home? Montparnasse would find her there, she lived with him. "I don't know. He'll be angry I suspect." She closed her eyes and tried not to shake. She couldn't let Enjolras see how scared she was.

"He's not going to... shoot you, right?"

"No, he'll just be mad." There was no need to make Enjolras worry about what Montparnasse was going to do. It's not like he could do anything to prevent the inevitable rage that was to come.

"They chased you with guns tonight."

"He'll have calmed down by the time I see him next. He'll be sober at the very least. Probably won't even remember exactly what happened."

Enjolras was finally slowing down now that they were back in the downtown area in which they both lived. "Where am I taking you?"

"Your building," she decided. He made a face that said you-don't-have-to-go-home-but-you-can't-stay-on-my -couch. "I just moved in with my boyfriend," she added.

"Why didn't you call him? Not that you shouldn't call me, it just seems like he would be an obvious choice to ask for help from."

"He's busy tonight," she lied quickly. You can't exactly ask for help from the guy you're running from.

"Does he know about these guys?"

"I think so." They were only a block away from the apartment complex. She took his free hand in hers, which seemed to startle him. "Tomorrow--I don't know when--I'm going to come and find you, okay? And if you don't see me or hear from me, I need you to call the police."

"Eponine--"

She squeezed his hand tightly before releasing it. "Please. Don't ask me any questions. Just promise, okay? I don't know what's going to happen."

"If you think you're in that much danger, you can always push Grantaire off my couch. Don't put yourself in a situation where I have to call the police to see if you're dead!"

"I have to go home. I'll probably be fine. It's just my adrenaline pumping from before."

"Do these people know where you live?"

"Don't ask me questions. Please. I mean it."

"This isn't a game!"

" _You think I don't know that?_ " She huffed and scraped her hair back. There was know way he could understand. She was stuck with no way out, no matter how much he wanted to help her. Alone she'd gone in, and alone she would have to go out.

"I'm sorry. You're the one who was hunted down like a fox tonight, not me. I don't want to watch this happen to you. I'm just concerned."

"Then don't watch."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I can take care of myself. It'll be fine." She was trying to convince herself of it as much as she was him.

"If you can take care of yourself, then why am I driving you around in the middle of the night?"

"I didn't have money for a cab. My friend spent all of it, which is why he bet me."

He parked, but didn't turn off the car or unlock the doors. "I don't know what to do."

"I don't know what I should do either."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay tonight?" He rubbed a temple, as if it gave him a headache to even consider letting her go off on her own.

"No. But if I go with you, then I definitely won't be okay tomorrow."

"Do you want me to stay with you for a while just in case they come by?"

She could see the outline of his gun in the waistband of his pants and considered it a moment. "No, it'll be fine." She wished she had a gun of her own.

"Are you absolutely positive?"

"One hundred percent."

He shut off the car. "Call me as soon as you can tomorrow."

"Sure." With the new bruises she was going to have after Montparnasse found her, she would  _have_  to contact him by phone.

They both got out of the car. "Eponine, you know you're not  _actually_  stuck with the lot you're given, right? This is America after all."

"It's a nice thought."

"I mean it. You can do whatever you want to. That's the beauty of freedom."

"Not everyone thinks that way. Isn't that what you're fighting for? Some people don't have those ideals and think they control the rest of us. Until they stop believing that, they do control us."

"Which is why we have to control them back at the end of a barrel."

She linked her arm in his. "So are we hypocrites then, or heroes?"

"History is what the losers settle for, and I don't plan on settling."

"Then neither do I."


End file.
